


someday.

by clanfett



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29344239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clanfett/pseuds/clanfett
Summary: Paz Vizsla finds himself stuck on Dantooine with a broken ship and no credits. Luckily, he finds you, a mechanic that will fix his ship for passage to Hosnian Prime. Over the course of your time together, a Mandalorian courtship blooms.
Relationships: Paz Vizsla/Reader, Paz Vizsla/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter I

Dirt kicked up behind heavy boots. Hands stopped their work so heads could turn. It wasn’t often a Mandalorian showed up. Actually, one had never showed up. And this one was huge. A buff man, covered in heavy armor that had been painted blue. Even his helmet evoked fear. The townspeople were watching myth become reality. 

The large man walked into Aliria’s Shop. The shop had a name once, when Aliria’s parents had opened it, but that was some 80 years ago now. The shop had survived the Clone Wars and the Empire, not to mention the constant flow of smugglers and thieves customary to the Outer Rim. Aliria’s Shop wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. 

It was a fairly small shop, especially considering all the things packed into it. Aliria carried food, clothes, a small array of weaponry, and medical supplies. There wasn’t much in the little town, a droid mechanic, a ship mechanic, a small infirmary, and a bar. Aliria’s Shop was the hub, she had the essentials. 

The Mandalorian was like a bull in a china shop inside the store. Aliria had crammed crates, tables, and shelves into every crevice of the store. Not to mention the various pieces of merchandise hanging from the ceiling. 

“Watch it, Mandalorian!” Aliria yelled at the man as he almost hit the shelf of fruits with the huge gun on his back. She may look like a frail older woman at the age of 75, but her voice didn’t show it. Aliria’s tan skin was weathered and her body was tired, but her voice held life. She was the backbone of the community. 

The armored man let out a gruff sorry before moving on. He was looking down at his gauntlet, reading some kind of list. “Kriffing hell, how do I find anything in here?” 

“We don’t get many outsiders, Mandalorian,” she said. “But my sales associate can help you. She was an outsider once, too.”

The pitch black of his visor shifted to you. Your hair was a bit messy, as you’d just helped your co-worker unload a speeder of goods. But you smiled at him. A change of pace is always nice. You walked from behind the counter to be in front of the Mandalorian and you asked, “What are you looking for, sir?” Your customer service voice was rough, you never needed to use it with most of the customers. They knew you personally, everyone knew everyone here. 

“You got ration bars?” His voice was gruff and deep, but you couldn’t tell if that was just because of the helmet. 

“Not many,” you told him. “Maybe ten? Aliria has such good prices, no one ever needs to buy a ration bar in place of real food.” It was a sales pitch you’d been taught when training here, but it was the truth. Why pay a credit for a ration bar when you can pay a credit for instant noodles? 

He huffed a little. “I’ll take all ten.” This man was weird, you decided. “Non-perishables? Do you have any?”

“We’ve got some beans, some vegetables that won’t go bad for at least a few years, rice, and a few other things. They’re all kind of scattered around.”

“Of course they are,” he was annoyed. “Where’s the vegetables?”

You pointed through a door at the back of the shop. “Greenhouse out back. Tell me what you need, I’ll go grab it.” Reluctantly, he showed you his gauntlet. It was a grocery list. You locked the information into your mind, grabbed a basket and headed to the greenhouse. 

When you got back, he was in the same place. He must’ve seen your confusion because he said, “I’d rather not waste time looking for things myself. I figure you’d be better at it.” And you were. You helped him get everything he needed, but the list just got weirder. Baby formula, toddler sized coveralls, ammunition, a journal, and more miscellaneous items that made no sense to you. You didn’t believe a Mandalorian was going to hand write something and in a journal, no less.

You wanted to know more, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t be keen on questions. Before you’d come to Dantooine, you’d been all over the galaxy and heard stories of Mandalorians and their secrecy. 

“What brings you to Dantooine, Mando?” You ask as you ring up the last of his items, putting them in the up-cycled grain bag grocery bags. You were tired of the tense silence, Aliria had gone into the back to do Maker knows what, and the Mandalorian’s stare was unnerving. 

“Work,” he said. His visor remained unmoving, his eyes were on you. You had a feeling that ‘work’ was something either illegal or close to it. “You?”

You were surprised. And, again, he must’ve noticed. “The old lady said you are an outsider, too.”

“Was an outsider, Mando,” you correct, bringing up his total. “I came here for work, too.” He could tell you were lying, or at least not sharing the whole truth. “It’s two-hundred credits, Mando.”

He reached into a pouch on his belt, and pulled out all the credits. “That should be two-hundred.” It was. Exact change and everything. Once you’d counted the money and placed it in the register, he grabbed all his bags with ease and turned to walk out. 

“Have a nice day!” you tell him, remembering your lines Aliria insisted on. He said nothing in return.

\- 

Paz Vizsla arrived back at his ship far out from the town. He put the bags of supplies for the covert in the cargo hold and cleared the message from Armorer that detailed what they needed. After the covert had to relocate, they were in desperate need of supplies. Especially for all the children who lost a buir or, Maker forbid, both buire. The children who had basically become foundlings. Paz’s heart broke for them, he tried to be the best ba’vodu, but there some things that even stories from Uncle Paz couldn’t fix. 

He’d spent the little bit of left over change from the bounty on something for each kid, even Bezza, who was old enough to be treated as an adult at seventeen. She’d lost her buire, and the least Paz could do was get her a nice, leather-bound journal that she’d been pining for. Something hard to come by in a galaxy that had moved on from physical writing. 

Paz closed the cargo hold and began moving himself towards the cockpit. He was tired, and though no one else agreed, he was getting old. Nearing 44, he was ready to just be Mr. Vizsla the teacher, Uncle Paz, and hopefully buir someday. But he was one of the Tribe’s best fighters. They needed him to keep hunting, so he did. This is the Way. 

He moved to start up the ship. It gave a groan, but lit up all the same. Paz began his takeoff procedures, but the ship wouldn’t budge. Kriff, he thought. This can’t happen. Paz Vizsla was a capable fighter, fluent in Mando’a, and a brilliant teacher, but he was no mechanic. That had always been his biggest shortcoming. I have no credits, he realized. Stuck on Dantooine with no credits. 

Dirt kicked up behind heavy boots. Hands stopped their work so heads could turn. It wasn’t often a Mandalorian showed up. But this one had now shown up twice. The awe of the townsfolk was still the same. He trudged back into Aliria’s Shop. This old woman would know someone willing to fix a ship for some food, he thought. She seems to know everything.

Except, when he walked in he was greeted by a new face. Not the saleswoman who’d helped him a few hours ago, nor was it the old woman. “How can I help you?” The boy asked. He couldn’t be more than sixteen. 

“You know anyone who’d be willing to fix a ship for a meal? Or maybe a small blaster?”

The kid shook his head. “No one around here is that desperate. I’ll go get Aliria, though. She might know someone I don’t.” The kid retreated into the back room without fully taking his eyes off Paz. 

When he returned, he had Aliria hobbling along next to him, bony hands around his arm. “Zenith says you need a mechanic? There’s a shop down the road but what he charges won’t be worth what you get,” the woman says. 

“I need someone who will work for something other than credits,” he says. “I don’t have any.”

You looked up from the datapad in the backroom. You had experience as a mechanic, you were rusty after all these years, but better than the other option, who probably learned by seeing a few pictures on the holonet. Maybe this was your ticket back out of the Outer Rim. You’d amassed enough credits to at least get an apartment for a bit until you can get work. Core Worlds always had open jobs, and you have connections. You hated to leave the little town, but it had always been the goal. You just thought it’d be many more years. 

You stepped out of the back room. “I’ll do it, Mando. I’ve got experience, I can probably fix it.” Zenith seemed surprised, but Aliria just smiled.

“I can’t pay,” he reiterated. 

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, you’ve said. We’ll negotiate the price on the way to your ship. You got tools?” He nodded. “I’ll be back tonight, Aliria. I’ll finish up inventory then.” The old woman told you not to worry about it and shooed both of you off, ready to get back to whatever she was up to in the storage room. 

As soon as the door shut behind you, you said, “Passage to Hosnian Prime. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Hosnian Prime? Do you know how long it’s going to take me to get from Dantooine to Hosnian Prime?” He was annoyed. The ship must be having a minor issue, but you were wanting a major payment. “And so far out of my way, my home is in the Outer Rim. And I’ll have no credits to refuel.”

Now you were the annoyed one. “I’m fixing your ship, Mando. You said anything but credits. My offer is passage to Hosnian Prime for the fixing of your ship.”

“How do I know you can even fix my ship? Why aren’t you the town mechanic?”

This wasn’t something you wanted to get into. You hadn’t talked about it in so long. Not since you got to Dantooine and Aliria took you in, vowing to help you back to wherever you wanted to be. “I was done being a mechanic, Mando, that’s why.”

“So you decided to work in a dingy little shop? With the galaxy’s oldest woman?”

You felt anger grow stem from the seed of annoyance. Aliria was like your grandmother. Like the whole town’s grandmother. And here comes an outsider, insulting Aliria’s shop. Aliria’s family built that town from the ground up. And this outsider insults her. “Do not speak of Aliria or her shop like that again, Mando. Or I won’t fix your ship and you’ll be stuck on Dantooine forever.”

Paz felt bad. He’d cut too deep, he’d only meant it to be a friendly dig about your job, a job most people weren’t ever satisfied with. He’d thought you’d laugh. He’d thought wrong. You walked in silence the rest of the way. 

“This is your ship?” you asked. No wonder it wouldn’t get off the ground. “Maker, Mando, what have you put this thing through?” It was dented, covered in carbon scoring, and there were chunks of it missing. You could only guess how bad the inner workings were. 

“A few altercations,” he replied. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was looking at this sorry excuse for a Mandalorian’s ship with love and pride. 

You laughed a little and shook your head. “I haven’t even looked at the wiring, but I think taking me to Hosnian Prime is the absolute least you could do for the work I’m going to have to do on this thing.”

“I just need it to fly,” he told you. “Nothing fancy.”

“Mando, this thing is going to pull itself apart when you try to leave the atmosphere. I’m surprised it even made it through,” you told him. 

The ship always groaned a little when Paz asked it to do things, but it always had obeyed. Without fail. Until now, of course. “It did sound a bit…pained when I arrived.” He left out the whole being fired at by ex-Imps and the harsh landing he’d made that’d landed him here. 

“Alright, I’ll go take a look, if that’s ok? And I’ll try to tell you when I think I’ll have it done.” He nodded, and pushed a button on his gauntlet, giving you access to the ship. 

-

“Bad news and good news,” you told him as you reemerged from the ship. “Bad news is this is a piece of junk and you should replace it. Good news is I can fix it and it’ll only take a few days.”

A few days. He needed to get these things back to the covert, they needed them. “Ok,” he said. “But before I take you to Hosnian Prime, we’ll need to make a pit stop on Yavin IV. I gotta get these supplies back.” You nodded, just as long as you’d be getting to Hosnian Prime at some point. 

“I’ll get started, if that’s ok?” He nodded and you retreated back inside. The external damage wasn’t as crucial as the internal, your job was going to be rough.

It was a long, hard rest of your day. The blasted ship held the humidity of the planet tightly and your coveralls were thick. You’d brought down the top half to tie around your waist, leaving you in your tank top and bra. You caught glimpses of the Mandalorian as you moved past the port holes, and he just sat there on a rock, not moving. All day. You couldn’t imagine the heat under that armor. 

When you came out of the ship again, it was night. “I’ve made good progress. It won’t be done tomorrow, but maybe the day after. If I’m lucky, of course.” And worked almost non-stop, you silently added.

“Good,” he says. “Go home and rest, dal’ika.”

You furrowed your brow. “My name isn’t dal’ika.” 

“I know,” he said, and then he moved past you onto his ship. 

“Good night to you, too!” You called. 

\- 

You walked to Aliria’s small home once you got back into town. She deserved to know your plans, you thought. She’d probably even help. 

“Ah! Dear! You’re back!” she said. “I was worried the Mandalorian would take you, but then I figured you’d comm if he’d try anything.”

You smiled. “He didn’t do much of anything. Just sat there.”

“What did you tell him your price is, dear?” 

You took a deep breath and sat on the sofa next to her. “Passage to Hosnian Prime.”

“You’re leaving?”

You nodded. “It’s time,” you said. “I have enough credits, especially since I won’t have to pay for transportation.”

“What will you do there, dear?” Aliria was worried. You were a grown woman, yes, but she felt protective. 

“Find General Organa,” you said. “See if she keeps promises.” You knew she would. She always had.

Aliria gave a bittersweet smile. “I knew you’d leave someday, but I never thought of how it would feel.” Her heart was breaking, and so was yours. This woman took you in when you showed up a mess on Dantooine, she held you during nightmares, and she helped you buy the little hut you now call your own. She gave you a job and a place in the community. “You’ll do much good on Hosnian Prime, dear. I know you will.”

You didn’t know what she meant, but somehow you believed her. “Thank you, Aliria. Thank you.” You couldn’t seem to say anything else, but it wasn’t adequate to what you were feeling. You needed a stronger phrase, but you didn’t know one.

“Take care of that Mandalorian, now,” she said, trying to be a bit more lighthearted. “I’ve always thought you’d like a warrior husband.”

You rolled your eyes. All the old women in town were like this. “He barely even talks to me and calls me dal’ika instead of my name, which he hasn’t asked for, by the way.”

“He’ll warm up to you, I’m sure. Especially if he’s got to take you from here to Hosnian Prime,” Aliria said. “You didn’t talk much when you arrived, either, remember?”

Aliria always had a way of finding the good in people, even if it was hardly there. That was rare, especially this far out in the galaxy, and you cherished it. You’d learned early on not to do that, but Aliria helped you open up more. Maybe she was right, this journey would result in a new friend.

“Ok, Ali, I will take care of the Mando,” you said. “Now I think I’m going to go home. Want to be up early tomorrow to fix his ship.”

She nodded and patted your knee. “Take the speeder bike tomorrow, it seems like a long walk.” You nodded, and placed your hand over hers for a moment. “Good night, dear. Sleep well,” she said and then she shooed you out in the way only an old lady could.

-

The next morning it was cooler outside. The trees swayed gently in the soft wind, and you became grateful for the coveralls as you picked up speed on the bike. You looked the same as you did the day before, just a little less rested. There was a little sunlight, but not much, and there were still a few nocturnal animals on the path. 

Arriving at the ship, everything was still closed up, and the big Mando nowhere in sight. You contemplated banging on the door, but before you made a decision the door lowered into a ramp and he walked out. “You’re very early, dal’ika.” 

“Told you I would be. Need all the daylight I can get.”

“Indeed.”

His gaze bore down on you again. You really took in how large he was. He had to be over six feet tall and maybe even closer to seven in the armor. A few people in town speculated that he wasn’t actually as buff as he seemed and that it was just the armor, but you doubted that. 

“I’ll go ahead and get started, if that’s ok?” 

He nodded. “You don’t have to keep asking, dal’ika.”

“That’s still not my name,” you said in a singsong voice over your shoulder as you walked up the ramp. He walked over towards some of the denser areas of trees.

You tried to watch him as discreetly as possible through one of the port holes, but you had a suspicion that, somehow, he could tell you were watching. He walked over some of the logs of fallen trees that had piled up towards the edge of the clearing. He picked two large ones, one in each arm, and set them upright. Then, he placed the large stones on the top of and behind them to keep them standing. 

He retreated a few yards, and his hands slid down to his thighs. He brought two blasters back up. Ah, you thought. Target practice. 

As much as you knew you needed to begin your day’s work, you stood at the port hole and watched him fire blast after blast, and you knew he hit each spot he intended to. He moved back farther, fired some more, and then moved off at angles. You never thought you’d be attracted to a man whose face you’d never seen and name you didn’t know, but here you are. 

Finally, you tore your gaze from the beskar-covered man and began your work, getting the tool box from where you’d left it yesterday. 

-

It was noon when you walked down the ramp again. The Mandalorian had finished his shooting hours ago, and had now shed his shin and thigh armor, along with the heavy cannon he carried on his back. He was already looking at you when you stepped into the doorway. 

“Need something, dal’ika?” 

You shook your head. “Lunch time, Mando.” You pulled some kind of bar out of your pocket. “It’s got meiloorun filling,” you brag. 

“Sounds good,” he said, a little amused at what you considered something to brag about. 

You sat down on the rock opposite him. “You want one? I’ve got an extra.”

“No, thank you, dal’ika,” he replied. 

You sunk your teeth into the grain and meiloorun bar, chewed, and swallowed. “What language even is that?”

“Mando’a,” he said. “The language of my people.”

“The Mandalorians?” You ask dumbly.

He let out a chuckle, it was small, but the vocoder processed it. “Yes, dal’ika, but I thought that was obvious.”

“What’s that mean? That word you’re calling me?”

He contemplated for a moment, but finally told you. “Dal’ika means woman in Mando’a. Well, dala means woman. The ‘ika bit just means it’s a nickname. It implies that you’re, well, small. It’s used for kids a lot but also for friends.” He regretted saying that, in case you found it insulting or weird. He quickly moved on. “And I definitely consider you more than an acquaintance, especially since we’ll be spending some time together.”

You looked at him. You’d never thought of yourself as small. “Well, that’s good to hear. And I think everyone is small next to you, Mando.”

He laughed again, and you took another bite. “I suppose so. What is your actual name?” You tell him, and he nods. “I can call you that, if you’d like?”

“Dal’ika is fine,” you say. You’d never really had a nickname before. “But you can call me my name, too, if you want.”

“Ok, dal’ika,” he said. “Where are you from?”

You looked at him. Why all the questions? You briefly thought of home, but closed your eyes. “Rather not say.”

He nodded, understanding. “I’m sorry that I keep saying the wrong things. I really should know better, considering I don’t like too many questions, either.”

“It’s ok, it’s not like you know what will strike a cord,” you tell him. You hurriedly finished your lunch, eager to get back on the ship in case memories of home flooded back into your mind and tears flooded your eyes. “Well, I’m off,” you say, standing awkwardly and walking back to the ship, leaving the Mando by himself again. 

You sat on the floor of the ship, one of the flooring panels removed, working on some wiring. In the back of your mind you saw your childhood home, the mountain peaks you could see from the backyard, and the neighbor kids that you’d played with every day after school. You remembered leaving. You remembered never being able to go back. 

Your hands are still in the wire compartment in the floor. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and smiled to yourself. Aliria always said smiling makes you feel better. It worked, and your hands began moving again, replacing and connecting wires.

-

Again, it was nightfall when you came out of the ship. The Mandalorian had all his armor on again, and he stood as you emerged. “I should’ve walked you home last night, dal’ika. It was dark when you left, I’m sorry for not offering.”

You felt your heart swell a little. He was a gentle giant, you decided. “Thank you, Mando, but I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s not like there’s dangerous people here.”

“Still,” he insisted. “I should have.”

You gave up and replied, “That would’ve been a kind gesture. I would take you up on the offer tonight, but Aliria lent me her speeder, so I don’t need an escort today.”

“As you wish,” he replied. “Just be careful, dal’ika. Hosnian Prime awaits.” He walked past you and onto the ship, just like he had the night before. 

-

The next day was almost the same, except you had to walk. Aliria needed the speeder for Zenith and supplies he was picking up from a nearby farm, but apart from that, everything was the same. You made small talk with the Mandalorian over your lunch (a star fruit bar today), and watched him shoot his blasters from afar. You got a lot of work done today, most of the hard stuff was finished and now just needed some tweaking. You moved on to the exterior of the ship a few hours before nightfall. 

“Dal’ika,” he said as you started working on the exterior. “Only do what you absolutely need to on the outside. I’d hate to see your hard work go to waste when I get into another altercation.” 

You nodded, but replied, “I hope you don’t plan on getting into one of your altercations while I’m aboard.”

“Well, I never really plan on them, but I’ll be extra careful if it makes you feel better,” he told you. 

You smiled. “It does.”

“It’s going to get dark soon,” he said.

You nodded, opening one of the exterior panels and examining it. “I know. I just have a few more things,” you assured him. “And then I’ll take you up on your offer to walk me home.” You turned your head towards him and smiled, but what you didn’t know was that your smile brought the slightest blush to his cheeks. 

Paz sat back down on his rock while you worked on the exterior. He thought about the smile you’d given him, how you weren’t afraid of him. There’s something more to this one, he thought. Something’s made her tough, and it wasn’t this village.

Finally, you finished. “Alright,” you told the Mando as you exited the ship after putting the tools up. “It should fly, but we can test that tomorrow. For now, I need to go home.”

He nodded and stood from the rock. “Lead the way, mechanic,” he said. 

You walked a pace or two in front of him, even though he didn’t really need to be led to the town. It wasn’t like there were many of those around here, but he let you, and you rambled about the place with pride. About Aliria with pride. 

After a few beats of silence, he spoke up. “May I ask what’s on Hosnian Prime? If you don’t want to answer, just tell me.”

“An old friend,” you said and looked back at him again. This smile was different, he noticed, but he wasn’t sure how. “I haven’t seen her in a long time, but I know she still cares.” You were telling him the truth, so why did you feel like you were lying? He didn’t need to know that General Organa was the friend or why you knew her. But you almost wanted him to know. Still, you held back. 

“Oh,” he said. “Sounds nice. I’ve heard good things about Hosnian Prime.” Truthfully, he hadn’t heard anything about Hosnian Prime except that it was the new capital of the New Republic. 

“I have, too,” you agreed. “What about you? What’s on Yavin IV?”

“Family,” he said. He was telling the truth, so why did he feel like he was lying? And why was he trusting you with the planet of the covert? 

You nodded. “I figured, with all the baby stuff you bought. Is your wife a Mandalorian, too? I heard Mandos can only marry Mandos.”

He was shocked a little, forgetting that you didn’t know much about his culture. “No, I don’t have a wife. Or kids of my own. My Tribe is my family, and there are kids in the Tribe. They’re just not mine.”

“Oh, interesting,” you said, kicking a rock in front of you. You were surprised to find yourself relieved that he did not have a wife. “So, like, can you only marry inside your tribe?”

“No, dal’ika,” he laughed. “We’d end up with some interesting children if we kept it in the tribe. Some people marry within the tribe, some never marry, and others marry outsiders.” He didn’t really know how accurate his answer was. Maybe, in big tribes, people did just marry in the tribe. But the covert he belonged to was too small for that. 

You kicked the rock again as you arrived at the place it had landed. “Huh,” you said. “Guess I never thought about that.” 

“We prefer people not think about us at all,” he replied. His tone was solemn when he said this, and you instinctively placed a hand on his armored arm to comfort him. The Mandalorian was brought to a blush under his helmet again. Maker, he thought. How’s she doing this to me?

You walked into the town in comfortable silence, your arm now wrapped around his, fingers lightly rubbing the armor. It was meant as a soothing technique, but you doubt he could feel it under the layers of metal and cloth. Eventually, you neared your home. “That one’s mine,” you pointed. The house’s door was painted blue, and your flowerbed was filled with blue flowers. 

“Your house matches my armor, kebiin’ika,” he said.

A new nickname. “What’s that mean?”

“Kebiin is blue. And, you know, ‘ika is ‘small’ and an endearment.” 

“Little blue?” You ask.

He nodded. “Ding, ding, ding,” he said. “You’d pick up Mando’a quickly, I think.” You smiled at him, you spoke Basic and Huttese already, why not learn a third? He smiled back, though all you could see was metal and visor. “Are we leaving tomorrow?” 

“Yes, I think that’d be good. Tomorrow after lunch, maybe? I’ve got to pack up my stuff and say good-bye to everyone.” He nodded. He’d forgotten that you’re leaving your life behind. “I don’t have much stuff, by the way, so don’t worry about that.”

He chuckled again. “Even if you did, I wouldn’t worry. We’d find the space.” There was a warmth in his voice that made your whole body warm. You could tell he cared about the people close to him deeply if he cared about a stranger like this.

You unlocked your door and stepped inside. You weren’t expecting a good night, as you had no reason to, but you did stop yourself from closing the door all the way.

You looked up at him through the half-open blue door. “Thank you,” you said quietly. “For walking me home. It’s very kind.”

“You deserve kindness, Y/N,” he replies, as if it was painfully obvious. Then, you realized he said your name. Your real name, not some Mandalorian nickname. 

You smiled again, your lips were beginning to hurt but your face wouldn’t let you stop. “Will I ever get to know your name, Mando?”

“Someday.”


	2. Chapter II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently this is also an au where Din and Grogu return to the covert and things go on smoothly lol.

You woke the next morning fairly early but nowhere near as early as yesterday. The sun was already high in the sky. 

You showered and dressed for the day, and then began deciding what to pack. You had a fairly large backpack, and decided that’s what you’d pack in. You shoved the few shirts you had into the bottom, followed by a pair of leggings, then your coveralls. On top of those went the holopad and a few holo photos of you, Aliria, and a few of your friends you’d made on Dantooine. That was all you cared to bring, really. Everything else had no importance, and you didn’t have the room to bring it. 

“Whoever you sell it to can have the stuff that’s in it,” you tell Aliria over breakfast. “Or you can have it. I think I’d prefer it if you have it.” 

Aliria wasn’t going to sell your stuff, even if you told her to. “I’ll keep it, dear,” she said as she poured you some tea. “I’ve been eyeing that sofa since you got it.” 

“Oh, trust me,” you said. “I noticed.” She laughed, her eyes lighting up with almost as much life as her voice. 

You looked at her, taking her presence in. “I’m scared, Ali,” you said. She cocked an eyebrow and put her hand on yours, asking why without words. “I forgot how scary it is to start a new life.”

“You’re strong, dear,” she squeezed your hand. “Your General Organa will take care of you, not as well as me, of course, but I’m sure she will.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Always so confident, Ali.” You sat in a gentle silence while you ate, lost in thought. 

-

You said goodbye to your mentor in private, embracing her tightly as she reassured you that you were strong, you were capable. When you emerged from Aliria’s house it seemed like the whole town was waiting for you, even the Mandalorian, though he stood quite far off. 

“We’re going to miss you, you know,” Tom, the mechanic, said. 

You smiled at him. “I’ll miss you too, Tom.” 

“What about me?” Zenith said.

You pulled him into a hug. “You’re a good kid, Zen,” you tell him. “Keep it that way, yeah?” He nodded. You felt your eyes well up as you pulled some of your closest friends into hugs. 

Eventually, you’d hugged everyone at least twice, and there was no way around leaving. It was time to go. “Alright, Mando,” you called to him, trying to keep an air of happiness in your strained voice. “I’m ready!” 

You slung your bag over your shoulder and he came to walk beside you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back, knowing everyone was standing there. The Mandalorian put a big hand on the top of your back, some kind of gesture of comfort, you thought. 

He cleared his throat under the helmet. You’d been walking a little while, the town was no longer in view, and the ship was starting to take form in the distance. “You ok, kebiin’ika?” 

“Not really, Mando,” you say. “But I will be.” His hand had not wavered from your back, and you were glad. His touch was soft, despite the thick gloves and his intimidating demeanor. As his touch burned into your back, you thought of Aliria’s words: I’ve always thought you’d like a warrior husband, she’d said. Maybe she was right, you’d thought, allowing your mind to wonder what it’d be like to come home to the Mandalorian. This is silly, you scolded yourself. You don’t even know his name. Stop it. 

The Mandalorian was thinking about the same thing. Wondering what’d it’d be like to introduce you to the covert, to court you in the proper Mandalorian way, to watch you meet the foundlings. He, too, stops himself. He isn’t naive. 

Finally, the two of you arrived at the ship. The Mandalorian’s hand hesitantly left your back, and he motioned for you to board ahead of him. “Go ahead, kebiin’ika.” You felt your feet leave Dantooine’s soil and felt your heart get heavier. Still, you pushed forward onto the ship. It wasn’t the biggest craft, but it had a refresher, a bedroom, and one bunk out in the open. 

“The bedroom is through there,” the Mandalorian said, gesturing towards the back of the ship. “You’ll sleep in there, I’ll sleep out here.”

You shook your head. “I’m not taking your bed, Mando.”

“You are,” he said. “I don’t mind the bunk. It’s really not that bad.”

You sighed. “I have a feeling you won’t take no for an answer.”

“You have good instincts, then, kebiin’ika,” he replied and made his way to the cockpit. You went the opposite direction, towards the bedroom. The door slid open with a woosh to reveal the room. Room was a generous word for the bed that was shoved into what was probably a storage compartment. The bed took up most of the space but there was one little nightstand that was no wider than a foot. It was just large enough for a chrono and a glass of water. 

The bed itself had a quilt on it, made with all different colors and different sized blocks, and was obviously hand sewn. It reminded you of the quilt in Aliria’s living room that stayed folded on the back of her chair. Another pang of sadness in your heart. The pillow was flat and bare, you’d probably have to fold it in half to get some semblance of comfort from it. You dropped your backpack onto the bed, and left the room.

Entering the cockpit, the Mandalorian was pressing buttons on the ships dashboard, and you silently prayed to whoever was listening that the rust bucket of a ship would get off the ground. “Everything look ok?” you asked. 

“So far so good,” he said. “Now sit down and buckle up, we’ll see if it’ll fly.” You obeyed, sitting in the chair next to him and fastening the clasps of the seatbelt. When you looked back up from the clasps, the blue helmet was staring right at you. “Are you sure about this, kebiin’ka?” he asked. “I’m not trying to break my end of the deal, but you don’t seem like you want to leave.”

You nodded. “Yes, I have to do this. It’s important,” you told him. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be sad.”

“Alright, then off to Yavin IV,” he said, and began initiating take off protocols. You lifted out of the clearing in the trees slowly, and as you got higher up you could see the town. The people were still congregated in the middle of town from the good-byes. 

Eventually, you were out of the atmosphere and into space. The journey was going to be short, especially with the hyperspace jump. Just under 12 hours and you’d be on Yavin’s fourth moon. 

“Jumping in 3, 2, 1,” he said and the ship jolted and the ship became shrouded in the swirling blue light of hyperspace. “Have you ever been to Yavin IV?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I lived there for awhile.” You loved Yavin IV when you’d lived there, despite the circumstances of your residency. The forests were beautiful, the climate was lovely. You remember watching Leia presenting medals to the newest heroes of the Rebellion. 

“Oh,” he said. “Why’d you leave?”

You looked at him. “You ask a lot of questions, Mando. And I’d answer if I knew you’d answer my questions.” Why were you even trusting him? You knew nothing about him, but there was just something in the way he carried himself that made you believe he would never harm you and would never let anyone else harm you, either.

“I don’t mean to offend you, kebiin’ika,” he said, hardly phased by your hostility. “My religion, kebiin’ika, it’s binding. I don’t want to break the resol'nare.” 

You cocked an eyebrow. “Resol’nare?” 

“The tenets of Mandalorian life.”

You nodded, trying to understand. “That’s why you can’t tell me your name?” 

“Kind of,” he nodded. “We have to be strict with the Resol’nare. A big part of it is our armor and protecting our tribe. We keep the armor on, we protect our tribe. We keep our secrets, we protect our tribe.” 

You remembered hearing about the Purge of Mandalorians. That’s probably why they lived all the way out on Yavin IV, and why he was having to get so many supplies before he goes back. “I’m sorry,” you say. “For getting hostile. It’s just…hard. You want me to open up to you but you won’t do the same,” you say. “I’m not saying you have to open up to me. I just want to explain myself.” 

“No, I understand,” he said. Then his visor turned back forward, staring into the blue blankness of hyperspace. “Would…” he began. “Would it help if I told you my name?” He was still staring straight ahead, hands gripping the arm rests of his chair. 

You looked at him, shocked that he’d offer this. “I wasn’t trying to guilt you into telling me about yourself, Mando,” you tell him. 

“I want to tell you my name, kebiin’ika. I’m asking you to trust me and you don’t even know my name,” he said, finally looking over at you. “That’s a bit unreasonable I think.”

You took a deep breath. He was right. It was unreasonable. “Alright then, Mando,” you say. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll happily learn your name.”

“Paz Vizsla,” he said. “Clan Vizsla.” After the fact he realized that his clan wouldn’t mean anything to you, but it felt weird to introduce himself without saying it.

“Paz Vizsla,” you repeat. “I’ve heard the name Vizsla before, I think.”

He nodded. “Vizslas were important on Mandalore. But that was a long time ago.”

“I like your name,” you say. “Paz Vizsla.” Paz smiled under his helmet. He liked the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth. He hadn’t heard his name spoken without a vocoder since he donned his helmet all those years ago. 

“I like when you say my name,” he says before he can stop himself. Maker, you must think he’s strange. But you smiled a toothy smile at him, and said his name again. “You know, I haven’t heard my name in awhile,” he says. 

This made you sad. He hadn’t heard his own name in Maker knows how long. “You don’t speak your names at home? On Yavin?” 

“Sometimes. But often the kids just call me ba’vodu and the adults call me vod.” He noticed the confused look on your face. He wasn’t used to speaking this much with people who didn’t know Mando’a. “Vod means sibling or close friend. Ba’vodu means uncle.”

You smiled. “That’s sweet, Paz,” you say. “I like Mando’a. It’s pretty when you speak it.” 

His heart swelled with pride for his people. This was what the Resol’nare instilled in him, a pride for his people and his language. And the fact that you loved it was amazing to him. “We’ll have a long ride to Hosnian Prime, maybe I can teach you some?”

“I’d love that, Paz,” you say. You could tell he loved talking about his people, you wished he was able to tell you more. He seemed so happy. 

-

You now sat in your room. His room? Your room? You weren’t sure. But you were sitting on the bed nonetheless, reading on your holopad. You had a few more hours of your journey, and you felt like you were in Paz’s way if you weren’t in this room. 

Your thoughts had long drifted from the article you were reading. They’d drifted to Paz. You thought of how happy he was that someone was interested not only in Mando’a but interested in him. How willing he was to share his name if it made you more comfortable. There was something in the pit of your stomach that started to swell. Those feelings you’d felt when his hand guided you to the ship. No, you scolded yourself. Not him. You can’t start crushing on him. But he was just so kind. So gentle despite being so utterly terrifying with his height and his armor. 

-

Paz sat in the cockpit, staring into hyperspace. Mandalorians were a patient people, they had to be. Especially now, living in the shadows. Waiting their turn to be the one who emerges from their hideouts. But, truthfully, Paz wasn’t utilizing his Mandalorian patience, the meditation that all the young children are taught. His mind was racing with thoughts of the girl who lay on his bed right now. Thoughts of how kriffing interested she was in the little bits of Mandalorian culture he’d introduced her to. 

Paz had never really thought what his ideal riduur was like. He knew he wanted her to be smart and to be able hold her own, but that was as far as he had gotten. But now, now he saw the shape of his ideal riduur begin to form in his mind: the shape of you. When he was younger, he’d imagined marrying a Mandalorian, but with so much of the Tribe gone now…he just didn’t see that happening. He still couldn’t believe he was this entranced by you, a shopkeeper turned mechanic from a village on Dantooine, of all places. He didn’t like the feeling of not having control over these emotions, no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t like how he didn’t know if you felt the same way, and if you did he had no idea how to go about courting you. You’re getting ahead of yourself, Vizsla, he thought. She just learned your name a few hours ago. 

-

“Kebiin’ika?” He called gently from the other side of the door. He knocked as gently as he could and repeated, “Kebiin’ika?” A sleepy hmm? came from the other side of the door. “We’re almost there. Just dropped out of hyperspace.” 

The door wooshed open, and you were standing right in front of him. Close in front of him. You rubbed sleep from your eyes and stretched in the doorway. “Already?”

He wished you could see his smile under his visor. He usually cherished the blankness of the helmet, but in this moment, he wanted nothing more than to smile at you. “Yeah,” he said. “Surprised the drop didn’t wake you.” He was staring down at you, something that normally intimidated people, but you just stood there, looking up. 

“I’m a deep sleeper,” you say. “Do you have any food? My breakfast has worn off.”

He nodded. “There’s a little kitchenette through here.” He led you through another a little farther up on the ship. It certainly was small, a tiny conservator under one of the cabinets that you doubt housed much, a stove, and a microwave. “There should be some stuff in here. It might not be the best, but it’s something.”

“Do you want me to make you something, too?” You ask. 

He shaked his head. “I’m alright, kebiin’ika.” He made a mental note to ask you what foods you wanted so he could pick up groceries on Yavin IV, but for now he needed to land the ship and you needed to eat. 

When the ship landed, you were both in the cockpit. You were munching on a ration bar, as most the things in the kitchen were expired and the things that weren’t wouldn’t make a meal. You’d told Paz just to get whatever for the kitchen, that you’d eat just about anything. 

“Ok, kebiin’ika,” he said as the ship’s main systems shut down after the landing. “I’ve got to get these things back to the covert, and you’ll have to stay here.” He saw the flicker of disappointment on your face. Maker, how he wanted to take you to the covert and introduce you to everyone, but that couldn’t happen. While he trusted you, he knew not everyone would, and it would be frowned upon to bring an outsider to their secure location. 

“Ok,” you replied. “Do I have to stay on the ship?”

“You don’t have to, but I’d prefer it. It’d be safer, and the town is a good hour’s walk from here,” he told you. 

You nodded. “Ok, I’ll stay here.”

About that time, you heard the woosh of what you thought to be jetpacks. You followed Paz to the ramp, stopping in the doorway as he continued down. There was one Mandalorian down there, on a speeder bike, towing another behind him. His armor was unpainted, just pure, bright beskar. He greeted Paz with a hug and followed him to the cargo hatch. The visor of the new Mando’s helmet met your eyes with what you thought was probably suspicion, but he continued on. 

They’d expertly tied all the goods onto the speeders, and the new Mando sped off, and Paz turned around and gave you a wave before following his friend.

-

“Who’s the girl, Paz?” Din asked as they stopped in the bay of the covert’s new home. 

“A new friend,” Paz said. Din wasn’t satisfied. “My ship stopped working back on Dantooine, and I didn’t have any credits. She said she’d fix it if I took her to Hosnian Prime.”

Din was shocked, but with his helmet on Paz couldn’t tell. “Maker, Paz, we need you here. Not on kriffing Hosnian Prime.”

“I know. But we needed these supplies, too, and if it weren’t for her I don’t know what I would’ve done,” Paz said. Eager to change the subject, he said, “How’s your foundling?”

“Grogu?” Din asked. “He’s good. Eats all the vermin. He’s like a Loth-cat, Paz,” Din laughed and Paz joined him. The little green toddler had made a big impact on the covert, specifically with how adorable he was. Grogu was Clan Djarin, but he was everyone’s family. 

Paz was greeted in the hallways of the covert almost immediately, his vod emerging from the rooms they were working to make their homes, and the young children coming from the school room. Shouts of “Ba’vodu!” filled the halls. Paz was beaming under his helmet as he knelt down to hug all the children. 

“You’ll have to excuse me, everyone,” he said. “I’ve got some business to attend to.” The children groaned, wanting fun Uncle Paz rather than the stern man in front of them. But they got the hint, and backed off back to the schoolroom. Paz went to the workshop first, where he knew he’d find Bezza. And he did. 

“Bezza?” He asked, walking into the almost empty room. She sat at a workbench, hunched over something. “I’ve got something for you.”

The young girl looked up. She had a helmet on. She hadn’t had that when Paz left. “Paz? You’re back?” She jumped up from her seat and rushed into a hug. Their beskar sang when they collided. “I walk the way of the Mandalore now,” she said when she backed away. 

“I can see that,” Paz laughed. “The armor of your clan?” He asked. She nodded. Paz couldn’t see her face, but he knew it was solemn at the memory of her fallen buire. He pulled the journal out of his pack, “I got you this on Dantooine.”

Paz wished she had waited to don her helmet, just so he could see the way her face lit up when she saw the leather journal. “Ba’vodu,” she was breathless. “It’s gorgeous. On Dantooine? Why’d Dantooine have this?”

“It’s a long story, Bezza,” he replied. “One with crazy old ladies and me making friends with pretty mechanics.” 

Bezza’s head tilted. “Uncle Paz finally smitten? Wait until Armorer hears. The whole covert will be on the edge of their seats.”

Paz immediately regretted the ‘pretty’ remark. “Bezza, you wouldn’t dare,” he said. Gossip traveled fast, especially amongst the older members of the covert who ached for their best warriors to bring more younglings into the tribe. 

“No,” Bezza said. “Especially since she’s on Dantooine and not here.”

Paz spoke without thinking. “Well, she is here.”

“Here? At the covert?” Bezza looked behind Paz frantically searching for the pretty mechanic. 

He shook his head. “No, Bezza, not here,” he laughed. “Armorer would kill me if I brought her here. But she’s on my ship.”

“Uncle Paz…I know you didn’t leave a girl you have a crush on alone on your ship,” Bezza said. 

“First, I don’t have a crush on her. Second, should I not have?”

“Kriff, men really can be clueless,” Bezza sighed. “No, Paz, you shouldn’t have. Not if you’re thinking about courting her.” Bezza’s voice drifted into a singsong for the last bit. 

Paz tilted his head down in a stern manner that Bezza recognized from her days as his student. “I’m not thinking about courting her,” he said. “Besides, I’m an old man compared to her.”

“Maker, ba’vodu, you’re not old. And, that doesn’t matter,” Bezza said. “But what does matter is that you left her on the ship alone in the middle of the forest. Poor thing.” 

Paz rolled his eyes beneath his helmet. It couldn’t have been that bad.

-

It’d been three hours since Paz and his friend rode off into the dense forest. You were bored. There was no service for your holopad to pick up on, and you’d walked the layout of the ship a million times. You were mad at yourself for napping when you did, because if you hadn’t you’d still be on Dantooine time and would be fast asleep. But you had napped, and now you’d be on Yavin IV time, and it was midday here. 

You were back on the bed, unpacking your backpack. Your credits jangled at the bottom. I could go get some clothes in town, you thought. Maybe some nicer shoes. You definitely had the credits for it, and you didn’t want to meet with Leia in your old, tattered clothes. 

You figured out how to engage ground protocols from outside the ship, and then slung your backpack onto a shoulder and set off walking. You realized you should’ve tried to leave a hint to Paz that you’d gone into town, but it was too late for that now. Surely he could figure it out. 

The town came into view. It wasn’t a big place, and it was fairly new. It hadn’t been here when the Rebellion had. A few chain stores and restaurants were littered between mom and pop places. You entered the chain fashion store, knowing their prices would be the most reasonable for the budget you’d set. 

All kinds of clothing were scattered over the store. A section of jackets and headwear for Togrutas and Twi’leks, shirts with varying numbers of sleeves, and pants for varying numbers of legs. You got yourself to the two-arm and two-leg section fairly easily, picking up solid colored tees and a sweatshirt of dark green. Just the staples. These were softer than the t-shirt you had on now, and thinner than the coveralls in your bag. Good for Yavin’s climate, and easily layerable for whatever Hosnian Prime had in store. You picked up some jeans and sweatpants as well, might as well build up a wardrobe here. You knew the prices on a popular planet like Hosnian Prime would be outrageous. 

“Can I take those up to the counter for you?” A teenage girl asked. She had blindingly neon pink lekku that caught you by surprise when you turned around. 

“Sure,” you said, handing her your goods. “Thank you.” She turned to walk away, and you continued looking around. There were gorgeous dresses towards the back, most likely for the local teenagers to buy when school dances came around. You ran your hands over all the different fabrics, your eyes taking in all the colors. They looked utterly expensive. You caught a glance at the price tag and yanked your hand back. You couldn’t risk harming one of these gowns, or you’d have to tell Paz you ran out of credits and needed to go back to Dantooine instead. 

You paid for the items, the Twi’lek girl giving you some kind of discount since you were a first time customer, and then walked out with the bag of clothes at your side. You wandered around for a bit, eventually finding yourself in some tech store being held up by a protocol droid. You’d made the mistake of telling it you were visiting from Dantooine, and now you were getting an extensive history of Dantooinian/Yavinian relations. Anything beat being bored on that ship, though.

-

Paz sat alone in his quarters, sipping on a broth. His helmet stared at him from the other side of the table. The chrono on the wall indicated he’d been gone from the ship for almost five hours. Then he thought back to what Bezza had said. He felt guilt, similar to the guilt he had felt when he realized he should’ve offered to walk you home after your first day of working on his ship. But this was more intense. He cursed at himself for not realizing how rude that was. He needed to get better at that, he decided. I’ll go meet with Armorer, he thought. She can advise me.

Paz’s heavy knocks landed on the door of the armory. Seconds later, the door opened, and Armorer allowed him in. They sat at her meeting table together. “Tell me about your mechanic.”

Paz groaned like a frustrated child. “Bezza tell you?”

Armorer shook her head. “Bezza told one of her friends, who told their father, who told a member of the council, who told me.” Of course. Everyone here was a gossip. They had to be, after all, because where else would their entertainment come from? “Tell me about her, Paz. Bezza said you seemed quite smitten.”

“I am not smitten,” Paz said, and then proceeded to tell the Armorer how you became a passenger on his ship. 

“You left her alone on the ship? For all this time?” Armorer asked. 

Paz sighed. “Why does everyone keep saying that? She’s a grown woman, she can take care of herself.”

“I’m sure she can,” Armorer replied. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t rude. Especially if you want to court her.”

“I never said I wanted to court her.”

“You didn’t have to,” Armorer replied. “I have counseled members of this tribe for many years. I can just tell.” 

Paz leaned back in defeat. “Well it’s not like I could bring her here.”

“You don’t trust her?”

Paz sat up, quickly, defensive. “Of course I trust her. But I didn’t think you would be too happy.”

“I wouldn’t be,” Armorer replied, voice unwavering. 

Paz’s face contorted in confusion under his helmet. “Then why is me leaving her on the ship alone such a big deal? What was I supposed to do?”

“It’s a big deal because we want more children running around, Paz,” Armorer said, humor ringing through her voice. “But seriously, Paz, you’ve been gone for how long? Five hours? That’s a long time on a foreign ship alone. You won’t be leaving until tomorrow, you can come back then for supplies and fuel. For now, go be with your mechanic.”

Paz obeyed, standing from his spot at the Armorer’s table. “Thank you, Armorer.”

“We care for each other,” she said. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.” 

-

Paz had said his goodbyes for the evening and walked with Din back to where they left their speeders. Grogu, clinging to Paz’s chest plate, was saying something that neither of them could understand. 

“Is that so, kid?” Din cooed at the foundling. Grogu laughed. “So, Paz,” Din’s voice had returned to its normal pitch. “You gonna court this girl?”

Paz sighed. “Why does everyone think I’m going to court her?”

“You don’t usually act this way towards anyone, especially not an outsider,” Din replied. “And we all know you’ve been looking for a riduur.”

Paz’s eyes rolled under his helmet. “I don’t know, Din,” he said. “Maybe. She’s nice, a hard worker, but she probably sees me as an old man. She’s probably still in her twenties.”

“Maker, Paz, you’re not old,” Din told him. “Just think about it. You seem quite…taken with her.” 

Paz nodded as they neared the speeders, handing Grogu back to Din. “Trust me, Din, she seems to be the only thing I can think about.” Din gave a smug laugh and sent his vod on his way. 

Paz wasn’t a reckless driver per se, but he certainly was fast. He neared the ship in half the time it took him and Din earlier. Secured safely on the back of his bike was a thermos of broth for you. Dusk was on its way to Yavin IV, it was dinner time. 

When Paz got to his ship, he was confused. Everything was shut down, and locked up from the outside. Once he was able to get in, he called for you. No answer. Surely you didn’t just up and leave him, right? 

“Kebiin’ika, this isn’t funny,” he said as he opened the door to your room. But there was nothing there. Not even your backpack or your holopad. He feared the worst, that you’d been taken, but he knew it was irrational. Still, he rushed back to his speeder bike. 

The townspeople of this particular town of Yavin IV had never seen a Mandalorian arrive in a fury like Paz did. Or, at least what they thought was fury. The dirt of the ground kicked up beside him as he stopped and dismounted. He scanned the town, people were going into shops or homes, fearing this was an attack of some sort. Everyone, all over the galaxy, had heard stories of Mandalorian warriors. 

Paz sometimes forgot how terrifying he looked, and in this moment he wished he didn’t. He went into the first store. No luck. The diner. No luck. He began thinking you’d been taken. He stood in the middle of the town and bellowed your name. 

“Paz?” A voice behind him said. Your voice. 

He whipped around to see you, shopping bags in one hand, ice cream in the other. “Maker, kebiin’ika,” he said, walking up to you, looking you up and down to make sure you were ok. “Thought you were gone. I thought you were hurt.”

You winced at his words, wishing you had turned back to leave a note. “I’m sorry, Paz-”

“Don’t call me that in public,” he said, his voice taking a bit of a mean tone. But then he said, softer, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be rude. You didn’t know. It’s part of my religion. Don’t use my name in public.”

You nodded, and then moved on. “I’m sorry, Mando, I just got so bored and figured I could use new clothes and here I am. Ice cream?” You offered the unlicked side of the cone. 

He pointed at the helmet. “I think I’ll have to decline.”

You nodded. “Can we go back to the ship now? I don’t like all these people looking at me.” Paz hadn’t noticed, but you were right. Everyone in town was looking at the two weirdos in the middle of the town. 

“C’mon,” he said, placing a guiding hand on your back. “Got a speeder bike over there.”

You got on the speeder behind him after he’d secured your shopping bags to the front. One arm wrapped firmly around his waist, the other holding the half-eaten ice cream. “Go slow, Mando, I paid good money for this,” you told him, and he did. You cruised back down the path towards the clearing in the woods that held the ship. “How was your family?” you asked. 

“Good,” he said. “I gave a girl in the covert that journal, that candy to the kids, I love to see their reactions. Makes me happy to make them happy.”

Your heart warmed, you could tell that he enjoyed making others happy. That’s what he seemed to live for. “I didn’t know people even used journals anymore, especially not younger people.”

“She’s sixteen,” Paz told you. “She lost her parents recently, and she’d been talking about a journal since she knew what they were. It felt right to buy that for her.”

You laid your head against his back, and brought both hands around his waist, as you’d finished your ice cream. “That’s sweet,” you said. “I’m sure she’s strong, after going through all that.”

“She is,” Paz agreed. “I told her about you.”

“Good things I hope?”

He laughed. “Of course. But everyone told me I shouldn’t have left you on the ship alone. That you’d get bored.”

“What do you mean ‘everyone’? Who all did you tell about me?”

Paz wasn’t sure if he made a mistake. “W-well, you know, just my close friend and Bezza, and of course I told Armorer. That’s all though.”

“Who’s Armorer? I mean, besides the armorer.”

Paz stopped the speeder as you got to the ship. “She’s our leader, our counselor, and our armorer. She’s the backbone of the Tribe.”

You hopped off the back of the bike, hands leaving Paz’s chest. “She seems important,” you said and Paz hummed in agreement. He was untying your bags, and the soup from the back. “Why’d you tell her about me?”

“Needed to know if my friends were right about leaving you alone on the ship,” he laughed. “Seems like they were.”

“You weren’t wrong to leave me, Paz. I understand that Mandalorians are very secretive,” you say. You hated to think he felt bad about a protocol that kept his Tribe safe. “Don’t feel bad.” You took the shopping bags from him and then followed him up into the ship. 

“Still, I’m sorry,” he said. “Wasn’t very…gentleman-like.” 

You let out a loud laugh, and he turned around to face you. “Sorry,” you said between laughs. “You just don’t strike me as someone who cares about being a gentleman. Not that you aren’t one, of course,” you cringed at yourself. You didn’t want him to think you didn’t like him or found him rude. Kriff, he was a caring Mandalorian, and those were rare. 

“I usually don’t,” he said, motioning for you to sit at the table in the common area of the ship. “But I’d like to be a gentleman for you.” Maker, Paz, could you not be more subtle? he thought. Not wanting to give you any time to respond, he continued, “This is some kind of broth they had for dinner tonight. Brought you some back.” He poured the soup into the lid of the thermos and handed you a spoon. 

You took the spoon slowly, looking directly into the black of his visor. Somehow, you knew he wasn’t looking back. He was looking above you or over your shoulder or something. “What do you mean you’d like to be a gentleman for me?”

Paz sucked in a strained breath. Suddenly, the beskar that had always made him feel free and safe felt like a prison that suffocated him. “I just care about you,” he said. “You know, like, you’re trusting me and so I care about you. I should protect you.”

“I can take care of myself,” you said. “And I think you know that. That’s not what this is about, is it?”

His head shifted slightly. Now you knew he was looking at you. Then it was your turn to avoid his gaze, looking down into the soup and taking a bite. “No,” he said. “It’s not.”

“Then what is it, Paz?”

Now or never, he thought. “When I was back home, everyone was asking me if I was going to court you,” he started. “I thought about it. A lot. All day.”

“And?”

“And I think I’d like to, if you’d let me,” he said quietly. You had a Mandalorian wrapped around your finger. 

You looked up from your soup at him. “What even is Mandalorian courting? Is it like normal dating?” He noticed the lack of answer, silently cursing himself for bringing this up too early. 

“Well, kind of. Lots of symbolism,” he said. He pulled a vibroblade from his belt. “Like, I would give you this, as a gift, an offering, if you said yes to a courtship. To mark me giving a piece of myself to you.”

You looked at the blade in his hand. “I don’t have a weapon to give you.”

“That’s ok,” he said. “You don’t have to give me anything. It’s my tradition, not yours.”

You smiled, he was so willing to accommodate you. But you knew this was a traditional man, deep down. “But you’re giving me a piece of you, I should give you a piece of me.”

“You don’t have to kebiin’ika,” he insisted. He sat the vibroblade down on the table, and he watched with wide eyes as you picked it up. 

“You’ll have to teach me to use this, Paz,” you said. “But yes, I will court you.” You swore you could feel the relief that washed over his body as you spoke. “But I do want to give you something.” He tilted his head, questioning. “I don’t have anything like this to give you, but I can still make myself a little more vulnerable, like you have.”

Paz smiled under his helmet, glad that you picked up on the message of the blade. He was giving one of his weapons to you, one of his ways to defend himself, and that was deeper than the surface level for a Mandalorian. “How?”

“Ask me all those questions you’ve been dying to ask,” you said. “I’ll answer them. Besides, you should know what you’re getting into with me.”

He nodded. “Where are you from?”

“Alderaan,” you reply. You wanted him to move on to the next question quickly, so you didn’t have time to think about it. 

But he didn’t move on quickly. “I’m so sorry, kebiin’ika,” he said, a gloved hand reaching out at one of yours that lay on the table. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not like you blew it up,” you said dryly. An attempt at humor that usually only worked with other Alderaanian survivors. “Any other questions?”

“What’s on Hosnian Prime? Who’s the friend?”

You smiled at the thought of Leia. “Princess Organa is my friend on Hosnian, or I guess she’s Senator Organa now. When the Rebellion became the New Republic, she told me if I ever needed work I could come see her and she’d find me something.”

“You were a part of the Rebellion?” There was some surprise in his voice, but he’d had an inkling that you’d been involved. Something hardened you, something gave you your skills. 

You nodded. “I was here on Yavin when Alderaan was blown up. Fixing up an X-wing when a pilot ran in and told me.” 

“Maker,” he said. “I can’t imagine.” He’d known what it was like to lose a lot of people, but never your entire homeworld. Yes, he’d lost Mandalore in some ways, but at least it was still there. 

“I thought about abandoning the Rebellion after that. I thought we couldn’t win,” you said. “But when Leia came back with the plans for the Death Star and Luke blew the damned thing up, I couldn’t leave. I was doing the bare minimum, I was just fixing ships.” 

“But without you to fix the ships, the Rebellion would’ve been done for,” he said. “Armorer always says that the Tribe is a machine, and we’re all the parts. If one of us is gone, we wouldn’t function,” he says. “I’d bet that’s how the Rebellion was.”

“I guess so,” you replied. “But, kriff, some of those droids I had to fix were annoying.”

He chuckled. “We don’t have droids in the covert.”

“Then count your blessings, Paz,” you said, remembering a protocol droid that talked your ear off while you fixed an astromech. “But, if we’re courting, are you coming with me to Hosnian Prime? Your part of the machine would be gone.”

He hadn’t thought of that. “Well, I don’t know. Are you still wanting to go to Hosnian Prime?”

“I kind of have to, right? If I can’t live with you in the covert,” you said. And that was part of the reason, but the other part was that you deeply missed Leia. As daughters of Alderaan and daughters of the Rebellion you’d formed a strong bond. One that you had cut yourself off from when memories of the war became too much. 

He nodded, thinking. “You don’t have to, but I think you want to. If not to stay, but to at least see your friend.” Was this man a mind reader? 

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed. “I want to see Leia. I’ll comm her in the morning, tell her we’re coming.” 

“You haven’t told her? You just planned on showing up on a Princess’s doorstep?”

You nodded and shrugged. “Haven’t spoken to her in a long time. Thought it might be best to just show up.”

“You’re very smart, kebiin’ika, but that’s not the brightest decision you’ve ever made.”

You two sat at the table talking for a few more hours. The conversation came with ease as he told you stories of his bounty hunting and of Clan Vizsla’s greatest warriors. But when you yawned, he said, “You’re getting tired. You should go sleep.”

“What about you?” He pointed to the tiny bunk. “No,” you said. “You’d hardly fit in that thing! You’re too long for it!” 

He laughed. “I told you earlier, I’d manage.”

“I don’t know if this goes against any of your courting rules,” you started. “But you could always sleep in the proper bed with me.”

He thought about it for a moment, he really did, but he shook his head. “Gotta keep the helmet on, kebiin’ika. This is the Way.”

“It gets pitch black in there and I have a sleep mask. I wouldn’t see your face even if I tried,” you said. “And I wouldn’t try.”

Finally, after a lot more convincing, he gave in. You took a shower in the tiny ‘fresher, and came out in pajamas you had bought earlier that day, matching eye mask in hand. “Your turn,” you said, gesturing him into the ‘fresher. 

When he emerged, you weren’t ready. The woosh of the door startled you and you clamped your eyes shut, slapping your hands over them. A low chuckle rang through the room. “I’ve got the helmet on, kebiin’ika. Open your eyes until I tell you to shut them.”

You obeyed, and you took him in. He was in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, and even without the armor, he was one huge man. His helmet still sat on his head, looking out of place with his loungewear. He made his way to the other side of the bed, and situated himself next to you. 

“Alright, kebiin’ika,” he said. “Time for lights out.” You nodded, shutting off the lamps and then placed the mask over your eyes. 

“Ok, I can’t see,” you said. And then you heard the helmet hit the floor on the other side of the bed. 

It was a bit awkward at first. Both of you, just laying on your backs in what was relatively a small bed. But eventually, his hand found yours under the covers. “I wish I could show you the covert,” he said. “Introduce you to my family.”

“Is there any chance you could?” you asked. “I mean, before we leave for the Hosnian system?”

He pondered for a moment, not wanting to make an empty promise. He thought of what Armorer and the council might say. “Maybe,” he replies. “Maybe not before Hosnian. Someday, though.”

“Someday.” you repeated, and then you drifted off, hand in hand with your gentle warrior.


	3. Chapter III

The birds of Yavin IV’s song was calming as you came into full consciousness. The sleep from the night before was much needed, and very refreshing. You opened your eyes and looked to where Paz had been before you’d fallen asleep. He wasn’t there. Neither was your sleep mask. “Kriff!” You flung your body onto your right side, looking away from Paz’s side of the bed.  
Shit. Shit. Shit. You’d told him you wouldn't look. Hell, you told him it was impossible for you to look. And here you are, no mask over your eyes. What if he’d been there? After all the time you’d spent convincing him to share the bed with you, that it’d be safe. Sure, you hadn’t actually seen him, but the possibility frightened you. You couldn’t violate him like that, even if it was an accident. You couldn’t live with yourself.

  
A few minutes of deep breathing later, you got out of bed, and headed into the ‘fresher. You wanted so badly to take another shower, to relax under the water, but you knew it was important to save water, not sure if the covert had water to spare for your journey. You’d have to be content with washing your face and pretending.  
You stared in the mirror, into your own eyes. You replayed the night before: the vibroblade that now sat with your stuff, the idea of Paz taking you to his home and meeting his family, learning his traditions. The pure bliss you were in as you fell asleep, and then the violent jerk of the morning’s close call. Your eyes were no longer as tired as they had been when you’d looked at yourself last night.

  
You threw on jeans and a shirt, and finally left the safety of the ‘fresher. Would Paz be mad about the mask coming off? He was so hesitant as it was, you were terrified that this would push him away, make him realize that there’s too much risk in a relationship with a non-Mando.

  
“Kebiin’ika?” Paz called as he heard the door to the bedroom open.

“Yeah?”

He stood up and met you halfway between the room and the common area. “How’d you sleep?” He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a half hug before leading you to the table you’d sat at the night before.

“Pretty good,” you said, taking a seat. “Paz?” He hummed and sat down a bowl of some type of porridge in front of you. “Are you mad at me?”

The helmet snapped up to look at you. “Why would I be mad? If you think you broke the towel rack in the ‘fresher, you haven’t. It’s always been like that.”

“No, Paz,” you said. “About the sleep mask. It came off last night. I’m so sorry, I thought it would stay on. I’m not really a wild sleeper so I don’t know how it happened, but I understand if you’re mad at me-”

“Kebiin’ika,” he says, cutting you off. You suck in a big breath, not realizing how long you’d been rambling. “It’s not that big of a deal to me, it was an accident. You didn’t see my face, right?”

You nodded. “Right.”

“See? No creeds broken,” he says. He can tell you’re still a little shaken up, and moves to lay his large, gloved hand over your small one. “If I didn’t trust you, mesh’la, I would’ve slept on the cot. I knew the mask came off when I woke up this morning, but I trust you enough that I know you wouldn’t use the opportunity of me being asleep to look, even on accident.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you swear you could hear a smile on his face. “Are you sure? I know I didn’t see anything this time, but I would understand if you want me to take the cot from now on.”

He ushered you closer to him, his arm around you. It was a bit awkward with all his armor and clothes, but the heart was there. “Kebiin’ika,” he said. “I’m comfortable with sleeping the way we did last night as long as you are. I’m not worried.”

You sighed, leaning into him. The beskar was cold and you just wanted to feel him, his warm skin. “Ok,” you say. “If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable.”

“Good,” he replies. “Now, why don’t you finish eating while I call the covert. Tell them that I’ll be there shortly to pick up some of our supplies, ok?”  
You nodded, and he let you out of his embrace. While spooning the food into your mouth, you watched him at the hull, punching some numbers into his gauntlet and then speaking in what you assumed was Mando’a. It was such a beautiful language, especially coming from Paz’s mouth. And he spoke it with a pride in his voice that he didn’t have when speaking Basic.

“Alright, mesh’la,” he said as you got to the bottom of the bowl. “I’ll be back soon, no more than two hours.”

“Two hours?”

“Yes, two hours,” he laughed. “It may be sooner, but you never know. Mandalorians take a long time to say goodbye.”

You smiled at him. “Alright, have fun,” you say.

“Oh, I will,” he replies. You watched as the mountain of blue beskar exited the ship and mounted the speeder the two of you rode the day before. A lot has changed since then, you thought. Before you knew it, Paz Vizsla was gone and a dirt cloud took his place.

-

Paz’s ride back to his home didn’t take too long at all. And when he arrived, he spotted Din and Grogu on some rocks outside the entrance.

“C’mon, Grogu,” Din is saying. “You can do it.” Grogu sat on a rock opposite Din, with his eyes closed. In Din’s hand was Grogu’s beskar ball. Grogu and his ball were inseparable.

As Paz dismounted and began walking towards the hangar, Grogu’s eyes shot open and he let out an excited shriek. Paz didn’t speak fifty-year-old-toddler, but he figured it was something along the lines of “ba’vodu!”.

Din turned around, too, and stood. He picked up his little foundling and greeted Paz half way. “How was your evening?”

“Nice,” Paz says. “Yours?”

Din nods. “Mine was ok, but I don’t have a _pretty mechanic_ in my room like you do.”

Paz rolled his eyes. “Din, it’s not like that.”

Grogu made a sound of protest. “Hm,” Din said. “My Jedi son seems to think differently. He’s never wrong about these things…” Din teases.

Paz stops just as they’re about to open the blast doors. “Din, Grogu,” Paz says. “Just between us?”

“Just between us,” Din says, and Grogu babbles.

Paz sighed, was he really doing this? He was. “We’re courting.”

“I knew it!” Din exclaims, and Grogu laughs. “I knew it, Paz. So what’d you give her?”

Paz patted the empty sheath. “Vibroblade.”

“Classic,” Din says. “What will you propose marriage with? Something of her homeworld’s tradition? Or wait and exchange blades that Armorer makes?”

Paz shakes his head, and he’s smiling beneath his bucket. “Maker, Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Though he figured it’d be blades. You didn’t seem too fond of being reminded of Alderaan. “But I’ll put your name in if we need a wedding planner.”

“You better,” Din replies. “Armorer will want to know, too.”

Paz nodded. “I know. I’m not sure I’ll tell her this time. I don’t want word getting out.”

“She won’t tell anyone, you know that.”

“I know, but still,” Paz said, finally punching in the code and opening the doors. “But we’ve got a covert of eavesdroppers.”

There was a child tending to one of his chores just inside, and as soon as he spotted Paz, he practically lunged at him. “Paz!”  
“Hey, ad’ika,” Paz says, taking the young kid up onto one of his arms. “I didn’t get to see you yesterday!”

“I know,” he said. “My buir had me at home practicing math. Math! Can you believe it?”

Paz laughed. “Knowing your buir? Yes, yes I can.”

The group walked further inside the winding the halls of the covert, adding new people to their crew as they saw them. Eventually they reached the karyai, and everyone got comfortable on the many cushions, chairs, and sofas littered about the room.

Paz stayed standing. “Sorry, everyone,” he said when he noticed their disappointment that he wasn’t going to be there long. “But I’ve got my end of a deal to hold up, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.” Paz noticed that at the mention of a her, helmets turned to the side, looking at each other, silently gossiping.

“Then come in here, Paz,” Armorer says, at the doorway to her forge. “And we’ll discuss what you need.”

Paz obeyed, making his way through all the Mandalorians relaxing in the karyai. He closed the door behind him, and sat at Armorer’s table. “We’ve compiled some things for your journey,” she says. “It’s not much, but it’s what we have. It’s in the hangar, I’m sure Clan Djarin would be happy to assist you in taking it back to your ship.”

“I’m sure it’s more than enough,” Paz replies. “Thank you, Armorer.”

She nodded. “Now, how happy was your mechanic at being left on the ship for so long yesterday?”

Paz could hear her smirk. “She got bored. Wasn’t there when I got back,” he said. “I almost lost my mind, but she was just in the little town, shopping.”  
Armorer let out a soft chuckle. “And you’re trying to tell everyone you aren’t smitten? Maker, Vizsla, I’d think you’d be better with convincing by now.”

Paz sighed. “You’d think.”

Armorer’s stare bore into him. For Mandalorians, it usually wasn’t intimidating when another looked at you through their visor. It was normal. But Armorer’s presence was different, she was intimidating. “Where is your vibroblade?”

Kriff. “It’s right here,” he said, patting the sheath on his left side, where his second vibroblade sat.

“No, not that one,” she said. “The one I forged for you when you donned your helmet. I swear you had it yesterday.”

Well, he might as well tell her at this point. She wouldn’t believe that he’d lost it, this blade had Mandalorian and Vizsla carvings in it, he rarely used it in combat. “Don’t tell anyone this,” Paz said. “I want it to be a secret for now, ok?”

She nodded.

“I gave it to her. The mechanic.”

Armorer sucked in a breath so sharp that her vocoder picked it up. “As a courtship proposal?” Paz nodded. “I wish you both many blessings, many warriors,” she said. Paz didn’t know if you wanted warriors, but Armorer’s blessings were traditional, and carried a lot of weight.

“Thank you, Armorer,” he replies. “I will pass along the message.”

“If you two are courting, then why didn’t you bring her here? Are you still going on your journey?”

Paz nodded. “She has unfinished business in the Hosnian system,” he didn’t tell her what business. It wasn’t his place, and Armorer understood. “We’ll be back, though I’m not sure when.”  
“Long hyperspace travel will be good for your relationship.” Armorer entered counselor mode. “Building trust and love.”

Paz always felt a bit awkward when she became a psychologist. So he just nodded. “Anyways, you said the supplies were in the hangar?”

She nodded. “Take care of her, Paz,” she said. They both stood. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Paz repeated.

Paz exited the Armorer’s workshop. Back in the karyai, some people had gone back to their rooms or to tend to their duties, but many still sat around. “Din?” Paz said to his friend.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t happen to know where Bezza is, do you?”

Din nodded. “Last I saw she was in one of the sparring rooms.” Paz thanked him and headed off down one of the long corridors towards the training rooms.

All the sparring room doors were open except one. Paz opened it gently, and looked inside. Bezza wielded the beskar staff Din had brought back with him. She was sparring with a reprogrammed droid, the only one in the covert. Paz watched with pride as she jabbed at the droid, careful not to hurt it too much. There were still children that would need to learn from sparring with the machine.

As she landed a final blow, the droid declared her the winner, and she backed off. Paz clapped from his place at the door. “That was very impressive,” he said. “You’ve gotten used to the armor quite well.”

“Paz!” She dropped the staff and walked towards her friend. “No one told me you were here.”

“That’s probably best,” Paz said. “I need to tell you something, and I need you to not repeat it, ok?”

Bezza nodded. “Ok. But if you tried to bring a Loth-cat in again, I’m not making any promises.”

Paz laughed. “It’s not a Loth-cat. It’s about my girl.”

“ _Your_ girl?”

Paz nodded. “We’re courting.”

Bezza threw her arms around her ba’vodu. “Paz, that’s wonderful!” Their beskar sang as he patted Bezza on the back. When she finally let go she said, “Are you guys staying here? When do you think you’ll marry? I know Mandalorian courtships tend to not last long, but she’s not a Mandalorian so-”

Paz cut off her rambling by saying, “I don’t know. Like I told Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Bezza laughed. “Of course you haven’t. How many people have you told, Paz? You know if you tell the wrong person, your courtship will be the topic at many dinner tables tonight.”

“I know,” Paz replied. “Only you, Din, and Armorer know.”

“Ok,” she said. “So I take it you’re not going to stay here?”

Paz shook his head. “We’re off to Hosnian Prime as soon as I get back with the supplies.” Somehow, Paz could sense Bezza’s disappointment. He wanted so badly to be there for her, help her through her losses, but he’d made a promise to you. A Mandalorian’s honor was their everything. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be there, but we’ll be coming back here. Maybe even to stay.”

“What’s even on Hosnian Prime?”

Paz sighed. He wanted to tell her, to give her a detailed reason so maybe she felt better. But, again, it wasn’t his place. “She has some business to take care of, Bez.”

She nodded, somewhat satisfied. “Can I walk with you to the hangar?” Paz nodded and they left the sparring room. All the way there, Bezza asked questions in typical teenage fashion. What’s her name? What’s she like? What color is her hair? And Paz answered them all. He figured you wouldn’t mind, and they weren’t too personal. All her questions reminded Paz of just how young she was. Other Mandalorians would understand not to ask those questions, just as Bezza would, in time.

In the hangar were Din and Grogu and that kriffing ball. Din had already loaded the speeder bikes with the fuel and food, and was now just killing time with his son. “Din!” Paz called. “I’m just about ready.”

Paz turned to Bezza. “When I get back we’ll start a plan for your training. There’s still a lot to get used to in the armor, especially with the jetpack.”

“Ok,” she said. “Hurry back, alright? And be safe!” Paz and Bezza exchanged a few more goodbyes, and he promised to pass on her hello to you.

Finally, Paz and Din had mounted the speeder bikes. Grogu sat in a carrier on Din’s chest, obviously excited to feel the wind whip around his long ears. The men had unspokenly made it a race, revving their engines and attempting to pass each other without knocking their cargo loose.

-

You sat outside the ship, taking in the fresh air as the Mandalorians arrived in a cloud of dust, Mando’a, and a baby’s shriek. _A baby?_ You thought.

You got on your feet and approached the speeders. To your surprise, the Mandalorian in unpainted beskar greeted you by name. Quite a lot kinder than the stare he’d met you with when you’d first arrived. “Hello,” you said. “It’s nice to meet you.” Then your eyes finally dropped from the helmet to the carrier on his chest. “Who’s this?”

“My son,” the Mando said. “His name is Grogu.”

You smiled at the baby. “Hello, Grogu,” you said and introduced yourself to him. Grogu’s tiny little arms reached out for you, and with Mando's permission, you picked him up. “You’re a tiny little thing, aren’t you, Grogu?” He babbled excitedly.

The two of you stood back as Din and Paz began loading the supplies onto the ship. “Your dad is very strong, Grogu,” you tell him as Din lifts a large crate off the bike and into the cargo hold. “Are you going to be strong like him?” Grogu gives you a strong response. This kid has to be a handful, you thought. Grogu stayed gripped onto you, his three little fingers wrapped around your one, gurgling and babbling like he made all the sense in the world. You, of course, humored him, and had a deep conversation about the inflation of credits as the shift from Imperial credits to New Republic credits took place.

Eventually, the men were done, the ship was loaded and refueled. “Alright, Grogu,” you say. “I think your dad will be wanting you back.” You placed a kiss to the top of his odd green head, and attempted to hand him over to his father. Grogu had other ideas. His fingers stayed gripped on the back of your t-shirt.

“Grogu,” Din said. “We have to go. Come on.”

You laughed at the little baby, amazed at how he’d become so attached to you in such little time. “Go on, hon,” you coax. “Your uncle and I will be back soon, I promise.” His big, dark eyes looked up at you, and then he allowed you to pass his little body to the Mando, who fastened him into the carrier.

“Safe travels, you two,” Mando said, and attached the bike Paz rode to his own, and him and Grogu were off.

Finally, you were able to give Paz a hug. “Ready, kebiin’ika?” he asked.

“Yeah. Let me call Leia before we go,” you say. “I forgot to this morning.”

“Ok, I’ll be waiting in the cockpit whenever you’re ready.” He turned around and disappeared onto the ship.

You held the holoprojector in front of you, anxious. Surely Leia would want to see you, right? After all your time together…

You sat the projector on a rock and sat down in front of it. You punched in the numbers Leia had sent you a while ago, and waited. Finally, a young girl answered. “May I ask who is calling?” You told her your name. “And who are you calling for?”

“Leia,” you said, and then cringed. “Uh, her royal highness.” You’d never really grasped the royal protocol.

The girl looked closely. “Is the princess expecting you?”

“Uh, not really,” you said. “But we fought in the Rebellion together. She gave me this number, told me to call if I needed her.”

The girl nodded, and walked out of frame. Hopefully, she’d return with Leia. She did return, but no princess in sight. “Her royal highness will meet with you shortly.” And then she was gone again.

You sat looking around at the trees, taking in your last minutes on a planet for some time. And even when you got to Hosnian Prime, it would be way different. Hosnian Prime was busy, unlike Dantooine and Yavin IV.

“Finally!” said a voice. Leia’s. She stood in holo form on the rock, an elegant white dress covered her form and her hair was in two braids down her shoulders. “I’ve been wondering when I’d hear from you.”

“Leia!” you exclaimed. “I’ve wanted to call, but you know how I felt when the war was won…I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me.”

She frowned. “Oh, stop that,” she said. “I’ll always want to hear from you. I’m sorry it took me so long to get on the line, Korrie is quite protective of me.”

“I understand,” you smiled. “You are a very important person, your royal highness.”

Leia laughed. “Now, what did I tell you back on Alderaan about formal titles?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a normal person when you’re with me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I take it you’re a bit exhausted with decorum at the moment?”

She nodded. “And it doesn’t help that Threepio is the decorum police, either.” The two of you shared a laugh at the droid’s expense. You didn’t know how Leia could stand C-3PO all the time.

“Enough with my complaining, are you ok? Is there something you need?”

“Well, I was calling to see if you’d receive me on Hosnian?” you asked. “I want to catch up with you, maybe even a few friends from the old days?”

Leia smiled. “Of course I’ll receive you! When are you leaving? And where from?”

“Yavin IV,” you say. “And hopefully as soon as I hang up with you, if that’s ok?”

She nodded. “That’d be great. I’ll have Korrie send you the coordinates. I can’t wait to see you!” Leia had a way of making anyone feel comfortable, and you couldn’t wait to be in her full presence again. You exchanged goodbyes, and Leia disappeared from the rock.

Back on the ship, you grabbed a fruit bar from the kitchen and sat in the cockpit. “How was your princess?” Paz asked as he copied the coordinates from your holopad.

“Good,” you replied. “I had no reason to be anxious, really.”

Paz put a gloved hand over yours on the armrest. “I’m glad it’s working out, mesh’la.”

“What’s that word mean? You’ve been calling me that all day.”

His thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. “It means ‘beautiful’,” he says.

“Mesh’la,” you repeat. “It’s a beautiful word, no wonder it means beautiful.” Paz chuckled a little at your awe.

His hand left yours and landed on the controls. “Ready to head out?” You nodded, mouth too full to properly respond, and the take off sequence was activated. The ship rose out of the clearing, and you watched as Yavin IV grew smaller beneath you. You saw a building off in the distance, it looked half underground, with a large hangar at the front.

“Is that your home?” you ask, pointing out at the structure.

Paz nodded. “Indeed it is,” he says.

“That was part of the Rebel base once,” you say, remembering your time here. “I didn’t spend too much time on that part, though. There was a main hangar a little farther down, but after the war Leia had a lot of it removed, so the wildlife could return to normal,” you say. “Guess not all of it was taken.”

The ship finally reached the atmosphere and Paz guided the ship through it with grace. The jump to hyperspace was made, and the ship was on autopilot for the next three days.

Paz turned to you in his chair. “We live in a rebel base now?”

“Indeed you do,” you say. “I think a lot of that building was quarters for officers and stuff. I’ll bet Leia can tell you when we arrive.”

“You want me to come with you to meet her?”

You looked at him, a little confused. “Of course I do,” you tell him. “I don’t know how long I’ll be there and I’m sure that a princess has room to spare. Besides, it’ll do you some good to sleep on a proper bed for a few nights.”

“Are you sure, kebiin’ika? Mandalorians aren’t greeted too kindly.”

“Maybe not in the Outer Rim,” you say. “But that far into the Core? And a guest of Princess Leia’s? I’m sure it'll be ok.”

He nodded. “Ok, then. I’ll come with you.” You smiled at him, wishing so badly to smile at his face and not his helmet. You took his hand in yours, stood up, and led him to the little common area. There was a small sofa pushed against one of the walls, and you motioned for him to sit.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, and retreat back to the cockpit. When you return, Paz is sat on the sofa, still as can be. It was still a little creepy, how he could just sit there. You held up your holopad. “First thing to know about dating me is I need designated snuggle and holodrama time.”

He laughed. “Is this a common thing or just a kebiin’ika thing?”

You sat down next to him, a little confused that he was wondering if cuddling and watching holos was common. “Am I your first girlfriend, Paz?”

“If I say yes will you think I’m weird?”

“No, I won’t think you’re weird.”

“Then yes,” he said. You looked at him, feeling a wave of sadness. Had this man been cuddled ever? Hugged? Loved? You cared for him so much already, and you wanted him to feel those things.

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s a me thing, but it’s an important thing,” you laugh, setting the holopad up to project against the blank wall of the ship. A show about a Jedi and a Twi’lek healer’s unrequited love played on the wall, a slight silver hue brought by the metal of the ship. You moved to cuddle against him, but the armor was stubborn.

“Could you, like, take some of this off?” You say, gesturing at the metal.

He feigned surprise. “You haven’t even taken me out, mesh’la, and you expect me to strip?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just lose some of it so I can cuddle you.” He obeyed, the cuirass and pauldrons going first, and then the gauntlets and gloves. He was left in his fly suit, made of a coarse weave fabric. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would do. You moved his arm around you as you settled into his chest. You could tell he wasn’t too sure what to do. “You’re warm,” you sigh.

“Sorry, mesh’la,” he says.

“Why are you sorry? It’s nice. Hyperspace gets cold,” you tell him. He was a little tense at first, he wasn’t used to this, he really hadn’t been properly cuddled since before he lost his buire so long ago.

Paz looked down at you, your head resting against him as you took in the predictable plot of the show. You were relaxed, almost like earlier that morning when he’d woken up. The mask had been gone, and your eyes had gently fluttered in your sleep. Paz felt a tightness in his chest, a feeling he’d been having a lot since you’ve been around. It’s gotten more and more intense, especially as you curled yourself into him. Your touch was burning into his skin in an amazing way, and he knew he’d be able to feel it long after you’d get up. He repeated your it’s nice in his head. No one had ever told him that touching him was nice. In fact, most people hated the touch of a Mandalorian. If they even lived to hate it.

As the drama went to an ad for some kind of Bantha milk, Paz felt you move to look up at him. “Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you can’t tell me what your Mando friend looks like under his helmet,” you say. “But can you tell me how he fits his ears in the helmet?”

Paz laughed. “What?”

“Well, if his ears are anything like his son’s, I’d imagine it’s hard.”

He threw his head back in a bellow of laughter. “Mesh’la, my friend and his son aren’t the same species. Grogu is a foundling.”

“A foundling?”

He finally recovered from his laughter, and his breath steadied. “Yeah, Mandalorians take in children who’ve lost their parents. My friend was a foundling once, and his son is a foundling.”

“Oh,” you said. “Well that explains the ears, I guess. You weren’t a foundling were you?” You remembered him saying something about Vizslas being important on Mandalore.

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “The Vizsla line goes as far back into Mandalorian history as I can trace. But most importantly, Tarre Vizsla, who was a Jedi, created the Darksaber. Whoever wields the dark saber is the Mand’alor, our ruler.”

“Who is the Mand’alor now?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “There isn’t one. Mandalore isn’t the same as it was, it hasn’t been in a very long time. Before I was born, even.”

“Well, you’re a Vizsla aren’t you? Shouldn’t you wield it?”

He laughs a little. “That’s not exactly how it works, mesh’la. Well, it worked like that for a while, but now you must win the saber in combat. Except no one knows where the saber is.” His voice had gotten sad, and he was running his right hand over his left while they sat on your back, some kind of self-soothing. “Besides,” he says, “There’s a lot of Vizslas out there I’m sure, and I don’t want to be a king. That is not the path that I follow.”

“I understand. It all becomes...a bit much,” you agree. Leia had offered you multiple positions on multiple committees in the new Senate, all dealing with labor laws and droids with a bunch of political nonsense you didn’t care to wade through. Not to mention having to represent the voice of mechanics all over the galaxy. No. Too much stress.

“Kebiin’ika,” Paz says. “As much as I like this old, lumpy sofa, don’t you think we’d be more comfy laying in bed?”

“I’m starting to think you’re a mind reader, Vizsla,” you say. The two of you awkwardly untangle in a mess of limbs and beskar clangs as you accidentally collide with his cuirass that lay on the floor. “Sorry,” you say, moving his armor up onto the sofa and off of the floor.

“Don’t be,” he reassured. “Beskar is practically invincible.”

The two of you made it into the bedroom, you set your holopad up properly to project onto the blank white wall ahead of the bed, there for this reason exactly. The show was brighter now, and clearer. It was technically late afternoon by Yavin IV time, but in hyperspace it was hard to tell. Paz got rid of the armor on his lower body, the codpiece, thighs and knees, and shins. He also kicked off his boots.

He looked so beautifully mundane. Doing something that he’d done a million times at this point, probably, and he was an expert. Could do with his eyes closed. And you loved it, you wondered if his brow furrowed under the helmet when he had to prod a clasp a little harder, or if he let out a soft huff when a piece was finally removed.

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for you to sit between his legs. Kriff, his legs were big.

You settled between his legs, back against his chest. His hands sat awkwardly on his thighs. “You know you can touch me, right?” you say, moving his hands to lay around your middle.

“I have to remind myself, mesh’la,” he says. “You’re not a quick fuck. You’re someone I want to be slow with, I’m just not sure how to go about it.” You were a bit surprised at how blunt he was, but honestly? You appreciated it. He wouldn’t be playing games with you.

You squeezed his hand. “We will go however slow as you want, alright? And don’t be afraid of me, ok? You can ask me anything.”

“I know, cyare, and I’m grateful for that,” he says softly. He wanted to kiss the top of your head so bad. He’d seen it in holos before, but never really understood the appeal until now.

At some point, you’d fallen asleep in the Mandalorian’s arms. It wasn’t until an hour later that he woke you up. “Kebiin’ika?” He’s whispering as much as the vocoder will let him. His voice is deep in your ear, and briefly becomes a part of your dream until you finally wake up.

“How long was I out?” You ask, sitting up and stretching your arms out in front of you.

He stood up, stretching his arms, too. “About an hour, I think. I dozed a bit, too.”

“I’m hungry,” you complain. He agrees, and you’re off to the kitchen. You start making sandwiches with a few of the vegetables you knew he’d bought back on Dantooine. You smiled at them, filled with a bit of nostalgia. That greenhouse of Aliria’s was always a peaceful place.

Paz is doing the same, though he’s making two sandwiches. You presume it’s because he’s such a large man, and such a strong man too. When you had relaxed into his chest, he was comfortable, a layer of fat that told you he took care of himself, and underneath you knew were strong hardened muscles.

“Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to sit with our backs to each other?” you ask. “So we can eat together instead of in shifts?” He nods, finishing up his sandwiches. You grab your plates and make your way to the sofa. He moves his armor back onto the floor a bit clumsily, and has to remind you that beskar is strong. He’s facing to the right, you to the left, backs together.

“You can lean back on me, cyare,” he says, and you smile at the switch of the nickname. It was kind of nice, not knowing which endearment would envelop you when he opened his mouth. You hear a click and hiss, sounds you’d heard the night before, and then the clunk of his helmet on the ship’s floor.

“I forgot to tell you earlier,” he says between bites. “Armorer and Bezza said to tell you hello.”

You remembered who Armorer was, but your brow furrowed, trying to recall where you’d heard the second name. “Bezza is the girl who you bought the journal for, yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind my telling her about us. I’m the closest thing she has to family at the moment.”

You smile. “Of course it’s alright, Paz,” you say. “I’d love to meet her. She sounds very sweet.”

Paz felt a wave of joy rush over him. Bezza was very special to him, even more so now. And now you were special to him, too, and he wanted nothing more than for you two to get along. “If I would’ve known I would’ve brought her with me to the ship instead of my friend,” he said. He had to catch himself before saying Din’s name, knowing that Din was very particular about his name. Bezza, on the other hand, was a more modern Mando. “Maybe once I teach you to use that vibroblade, I can teach you how to wield a staff. Then you two could spar.”

“I don’t know, Paz,” you say. “I’m sure you’re a fantastic teacher, but I don’t see myself holding my own against a Mandalorian in combat.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll train you the Mandalorian way. One day, mesh’la, you will hold your own.”

A silence followed, you could hear the crunch of the chips he’d put in his sandwich as he bit.

“Is Bezza your foundling now?”

Paz swallowed his bite. “Maybe if she was younger I’d take her in, but she’s practically an adult. I wouldn’t want to insult her by insinuating she still needs caring for.”

“Everyone needs caring for,” you say, leaning your head back against him. “I’m twenty-six and I need caring for, emotionally anyways. I’m not sure how old you are, but I’m sure you do, too.”

He wasn’t at all shocked that you were twenty-six. He was, however, shocked that his age didn’t ever come up. “I’m forty-three,” he said, hoping that wouldn’t scare you. It didn’t seem to, so he continued. “And I guess you’re right, but still, I can care for her without taking her in.”

“I guess,” you said, and decided to let the topic of Bezza rest for a bit. “Do you think you’ll ever take in a foundling?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’d like to father some kids as well, but also take in foundlings. Not only is it important to the Tribe, but I love kids. That’s why I’m their teacher whenever I’m not out hunting.”

“That’s sweet, Paz,” you tell him. “I’d like a kid, too, I think. Though, it scares me. Making a person inside my body for almost a year.”

“Mandalorians say to train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger,” he says. “I’m sure you can see why. Having children is important, it’s even in the Mandalorian wedding vows: ‘we will raise warriors’.”

You smile up at the ceiling, picturing you and Paz having a wedding. Some weird mix of Mandalorian and Alderaanian culture, exchanging Mandalorian vows. Maybe it was a bit early to be thinking about this, but you didn’t care.

-

You watched as Paz cleaned the plates from lunch. He volunteered to take your plate, and now he stood at the sink, scrubbing away the residue of the condiments and components of your lunches. Again, he looked so beautifully mundane, gloves gone, revealing his dark skin to you. Through the bubbles of soap you saw small pink scars littering the top of his hands. He scrubbed away with the brush, working diligently. Again you wondered what kind of face he makes when he concentrates. Does he stick his tongue out a little? Bite on the inside of his lip?

You thought back to the wedding you’d put together in your mind. You thought about how after those vows were exchanged you’d get to see the face he makes not only when he concentrates, but when he’s happy or frustrated, too.

He was such a mystery, but also easy to read. It confused you in the best way possible, and all you wanted was to read chapter after chapter of Paz Vizsla until you got to the part where you’d get to see his face, kiss his face, talk to his eyes rather than a visor. _Someday_ , you told yourself. _Someday._


	4. Chapter IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i ended up moving a lot of Han and Leia stuff to the next chapter, so this one is a little shorter than I originally anticipated. still, I hope you enjoy!

Travels in hyperspace got very boring very quickly. The view out the windows was the same blue light, and there was no turning or swerving or other ships passing to break up the monotony. Sure, cuddling and holodramas were nice for a while but two days in, you were restless with boredom. 

Paz, of course, was not restless. Occasionally he’d do some push-ups or pull-ups but you knew it was not the result of boredom. 

“Kebiin’ika?” he asks, sitting down in the cockpit with you. 

“Hmm?” You tear your eyes away from a book on your datapad to look at him. 

“Wanna learn how to use one of these?” He pulls his vibroblade from his belt and holds it up. It looks very different from the one he gave you, there are no intricate markings on the one he holds.

“I think I’m going to be a slow learner,” you warn.

He laughs. “I’m patient.”

“I know,” you nod, remembering how he could just  _ sit  _ for a long time. “Alright. When am I learning?”

He gestures his arms out. “Right now. We can move the table and the couch.”

You agree, anxious to finally have something to  _ do.  _ You help him with the anchors on the round table and the booth-like seat around it, moving them up towards the cockpit. Paz carries the seat with ease, leaving you behind to grunt with the heavy metal table until he finally returns to help you, sliding it across the floor with one arm.

“Show off,” you huff, but he just chuckles. 

“Go get your blade, mesh’la,” he commands. You turn and walk back towards your room, retrieving the blade from your bag where it was carefully wrapped in some fabric. You study it as you slowly walk back to the common area, taking note of the differences between yours and the one Paz had pulled from his belt earlier. The blade that was now yours had a beautiful handle made of some sort of dark stone, embellished with gold metal. The blade had intricate carvings on it as well, one you recognized from Paz’s armor as well as many you didn’t recognize. It seemed important, almost like an heirloom, why’d he give it to you?

You return back to the common area and find him just standing there, waiting. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply. 

He’s holding a wooden blade in his hand now, it’s dull and chipped in some places. “Don’t want to hurt you,” he explains. “You don’t have a body of beskar.” 

“Right. But I don't want to hurt you either,” you say, though you didn’t think you could hurt him if he tried. 

He knocks his knuckles on the chestplate. “Mesh’la, beskar is one of the strongest metals there is. Resistant even to the weapon of the Jedi.” 

You were a little shocked, first at the mention of Jedi, and then that beskar could hold strong against the swords you’d heard of the Jedi carrying. You’d seen Luke Skywalker’s on his belt, but never seen it ignited. You knew Leia trained with him often and had one of her own, but you never asked to see it. “Oh,” you say. “Then I guess I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Right,” he agreed. “Now, what do you know about fighting?”

You recalled your very brief ‘lessons’ back on the rebel base. “Shoot the guys in white.” He looked a little confused. “The stormtroopers,” you explained.

“Yeah, I picked up on that part,” he says. “That’s all they taught you?”

You nodded. “I was a mechanic, love, not a soldier.”

“Alright. Well, maybe that’s best,” he says. “No bad habits to unlearn.” You agreed with a nod. “Ok, first thing is your stance.” 

He begins moving your body around, your arms and hips and feet, positioning you for the form he thought would be best for someone your size. He was murmuring things to himself but you had no clue what they meant. You also had no clue how you were supposed to get into this exact stance in the middle of a fight, but you let him do it anyway. 

“And then you’d take the blade and jab me here,” he says, gesturing to his stomach. “Won’t work on a man in beskar, but most people won’t have beskar. Or any armor, for that matter.” 

He continued showing you moves, small self defense ways to get out of bad situations. He made you run sequences with him, but they made you feel a little useless. Yeah, if he let you win you wouldn’t learn, but, Maker, a win was needed right about now. It’d been three hours, you were sweaty and defeated.

“I have a man in beskar,” you say, defeated yet again, laying on the floor. “So do I really need to be proficient with a blade? I’m obviously not doing well.”

He cocks his head at you, sitting down against the wall next to you. “Kebiin’ika, I won’t always be there. Besides, you  _ are _ doing well.”

“I’m doing awful, Paz, don’t lie. I haven’t even gotten close to winning.” 

“Because I’m a Mandalorian, mesh’la,” he tells you. “I’ve been training with a blade since I could hold one. You’ve been training with one for three hours, and I promise that you’re doing great.”

You hum out a thank you and then sit in silence for a moment. Your eyes wander back down to the blade vibrating in your hand, studying the markings. “Why’d you give me this one?” you ask. “The pretty one, I mean.”

“It was forged from some of my mother’s armor,” he says. “House Vizsla and Mandalore’s markings are on the blade. Armorer made it for me when I was fourteen, when I put my armor and helmet on for the first time.”

“Your mother’s armor?”

He nods. “They both died, my buire, when I was thirteen. Armor is passed down through families, this armor has been with us for as long as anyone can remember.” He doesn’t expand on his parents’ death, and you don’t pry. The wound still seems fresh, and you wouldn’t be surprised if that’s because he’s never had anyone to talk to. Mandos don’t seem like that type. 

“And you trust me with it?”

“Of course I do,” he says. “Weapons are a part of my religion, mesh’la. A part of who I am, especially that blade. I wasn’t  _ just _ giving you a blade.” You knew it had been a show of vulnerability, but not one so great, so full of trust. 

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? So you just leaned into him, ignoring the annoying press of his armor into your side, relieved at the coolness the metal provided. 

You’re not sure how long you sat like that, lost in thought. Paz broke the silence, “We should probably eat and rest. We’ll be in the Hosnian system in ten hours.”

It set in as you watched Paz make soup for lunch that you’ll be seeing Leia soon. You hadn’t kept up with her life in the tabloids, that’s not what she would’ve wanted nor what you wanted. You wanted to know everything, to spend days in her house on Hosnian catching up. But you didn’t want to keep Paz from his home. And yet, you didn’t want to find out what would happen when you and Paz arrived back at his tribe, how they would react to you, an outsider.

As boring as it was, if you could stay in hyperspace forever you wouldn’t need to find out. But you wouldn’t be in hyperspace forever, and you will find out, but for now you push it out of your brain and focus on Paz as he brings soup over to the recently re-anchored table. 

“Here you go, mesh’la,” he says, sitting the bowl down. “Mandalorian specialty.” 

And it was special. Full of spices, ones you would’ve never put together, and vegetables, it was hearty. You slurped it up quickly, before excusing yourself to take a shower so Paz could eat as well. 

The shower was nice after your sparring (if you could even call it that), the hot water felt great on your now sore muscles. You had a hunch that trying to move the table contributed to that just as much as the knife fighting. 

“Paz?” You called as you exited the ‘fresher, now in pajamas. You weren’t too tired, but you knew it was important to make the transition from Yavin time to Hosnian time, and once you were cozy in bed, it wouldn’t be long before the tiredness set in. 

“I’m coming!” He called back, and sure enough he appeared, holding something in his hand. “Made you this while I ate. Well, I altered it.”

He holds out a leather sheath that holds the vibroblade. It’s identical to the dark brown one that still sits on his belt, but this one has a shorter belt, and the leather fits the blade snugly. “Thank you, Paz,” your voice is breathy at the gesture. 

“If you’re gonna fight someone with it, you’ve gotta have a way to carry it,” he says. 

Before you realize it, you’re on tippy toes, placing a kiss to the cheek of his helmet. “It’s lovely, Paz, thank you.” 

He slips past you into the ‘fresher for his turn in the shower as you admire the craftsmanship. Where he shortened the belt and tapered the sheath, the stitching got uneven, but you didn’t mind. The stitches were made with care, with kindness, with _ love.  _

As Paz stripped off his armor in the ‘fresher he felt heat rise up in his body. You’d kissed his helmet. He’d never seen anyone do that before. It was adorable and there was a small mark left on the cheek of his helmet by your lip balm. As the water heated in the shower, he stood and studied the mark of your lips. 

You were settled on the bed when Paz emerged from the ‘fresher in his sleep clothes. He always looked strange with the helmet and none of his other armor on, but it was endearing. You had the sleep mask in hand, a precaution that Paz insisted you didn’t  _ need _ , but one you took anyway. “You ready to sleep, mesh’la?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you say. “C’mon.” You pat the spot on the bed next to you. The cold of hyperspace is starting to create goosebumps on your skin, and Paz Vizsla is basically a furnace. He moves wordlessly to turn off the lights, watching as you slip the mask over your eyes. The click and hiss of the helmet sounded through the room, barely audible over the hum of the ship. 

The bed dips down as he climbs in, sheets rustling as he settles himself. You lay on your side facing where he would be, but you weren’t sure how he was laying. Extending an arm, you tried to find him. 

“Need something, kebiin’ika?” He asks as your hand lands on his stomach. 

“Just looking for you,” you murmur. He gives you a little chuckle and places his hand over yours. His hand is large, and it engulfs your small one easily. “Night, Paz,” you whisper. 

“Night, mesh’la.” His voice is a low rumble in your ears, and combined with the warmth he’s brought to the bed, sleep comes easily. 

-

The chrono is cruel the next morning. You got enough sleep, sure, but it was cold when you got out of bed and stumbled into the cockpit where Paz sat. He swiveled around in his chair to look at you, still in your pajamas. “Good morning, mesh’la,” he greets. “We’ll be there in two hours. There’s some cereal in the kitchen, if you’d like it.” 

You did like it, the sugary cereal didn’t seem like something Mandalorians would keep on hand, but you were glad they did. You excused yourself back to the bedroom, going through your things and picking out jeans and a t-shirt. For a brief moment you wondered if it was nice enough to meet with Leia, but you quickly dismissed the thought. Leia didn’t expect an ornate gown, you knew that. 

You and Paz moved about the ship, preparing for the landing and preparing the ship to sit dormant in a hangar for at least a few days. Every so often, Paz’s gloved hand drifted to the side of his helmet, where your lips had pressed the night before. He watched as you folded your clothes in different ways so that they’d fit comfortably in your backpack. He watched as you bit your lip, studying the ship to make sure nothing you’d need had been left behind. The same lips that touched his helmet. The heat rose in him again, culminating in his face, making the helmet uncomfortable.

“Kebiin’ika,” Paz says to distract himself. “Where’s your vibroblade?”

“In the cockpit.” 

“C’mon,” he says, gesturing you into the cockpit behind him. “Wanna see what it looks like on you.”

You shuffled into the cockpit behind him and he threaded the belt of the sheath through the belt loops of your jeans, fastening it around your waist. He takes a step back, looking at you with your new weapon.

“Very badass,” he says and you laugh, the both of you taking your seats.

Finally, the ship jolted out of hyperspace. The stars, the planet, and all the other ships in the system were a welcome change from the monotony of hyperspace. “Ready, kebiin’ika?” 

“Born ready,” you reply, grinning at him. There’s a giddiness welling inside you, not only that you’d be seeing Leia but that you’d be in a huge city again, on a Core planet. The years spent in the Outer Rim were peaceful, but sometimes you just want to be surrounded by  _ people. _

You were cleared to land on a platform in the heart of the city, Korrie said Leia requested C-3PO be sent for you. Her way of making a joke, you figured. The workers of the hangar would take care of the ship once you’d landed, and you knew Paz was less than thrilled at handing his ship over into the hands of strangers.

“We’re guests of the princess,” you remind him before you disembark. “They won’t hurt your ship.”

“The princess doesn’t know you’ve brought a Mandalorian,” he retorts. If you could read minds you’d know he was terrified of ruining your trip to Hosnian Prime by simply being there. 

But you couldn’t read minds. Instead, you weren’t really sure why that mattered, sure you’d heard of some bad feelings towards Mandos in the Outer Rim but you couldn’t see why that would carry over into the Core. But that didn’t matter at the moment, you needed to get off the ship and into the speeder with the droid. 

You were the first to step out of the ship, the Mandalorian strangely meek behind you. Everyone in the hangar seemed to suck in a breath as the armored man stepped out behind you, all motion stopping momentarily as everyone took in the sight of a Mandalorian. It reminded you of when Paz first walked into town on Dantooine, the whole town halted for a moment.

“Miss! Miss!” A mechanical voice is calling across the hangar. 

“We’re coming, Threepio, give us a second,” you say, pushing on through the oglers towards the golden droid at the mouth of the hangar. The speeder is state of the art, blue with no top, perfect for the kind weather of Hosnian Prime. 

“I’m afraid I was only expecting one person,” C-3PO says as he ushers you two into the speeder. “Though I suppose it won’t affect anything.”

Paz looks at you, and you can only guess he’s rolling his eyes. “This is my Mandalorian friend, Threepio,” you say. “He brought me here.”

“Splendid.”

“How’s Artoo?”

The speeder pulled out of the hangar, exposing you to the breeze as you sped over the city. “Artoo is with Master Luke,” the droid began, continuing on in excruciating detail about how the astromech’s wiring is performing. 

“That’s nice, Threepio,” you say finally, cutting him off halfway through his opinion on the best replacement for R2-D2’s outdated thrusters. “I think I’d like to enjoy the scenery for now. In silence.” You heard Paz exhale in relief next to you, the Mandalorian was close to losing his practiced patience with the droid. C-3PO had that effect on some people.

“Very well then. We will be arriving at the Organa estate in fifteen minutes.” 

You looked out over what was now the less busy parts of the capital city, the further away from the new Senate building, the quieter things got. No wonder Leia liked to live so far out of the city. You found your mind drifting from the scenery to what Leia’s home may look like. Would it be in the typical, Alderaanian minimalism style? Or is she too much like you, pushing away reminders of home? But Alderaan was so much more to Leia than just home. 

The speeder stopped on the steps of a fairly small place on the far outskirts of the city. It was a sleek white on the outside, boxy in shape like most of the homes you’d seen so far on the planet. Paz drew in a breath next to you as the two of you exited the speeder, C-3PO leading the way to the door.

Once inside, you knew Leia was not, in fact, like you. It was like you’d stepped back into a home on Alderaan. The art on the walls evoked Alderaanian style, the white furniture and gray accents were the tells of an Alderaanian decorator. 

“Y/N!” Leia calls from a hallway at the back of the foyer. “And...another guest?” Leia’s hand went to her belt, you weren’t sure if she was searching for the safety of a blaster or her lightsaber, but neither was there. 

You step forward, ahead of Paz. “This is my, uh, boyfriend, Leia.” 

“Ma’am,” Paz said with a bow of his head, not sure if that was the right thing to say to a princess. 

Apparently it wasn’t, as C-3PO stepped forward. “It is ‘Your Highness’ upon the first address of the conversation. After that it can be ma’am, princess, or senator.”

“Oh,” Paz said. “Sorry, Your Highness.” 

“No, no,” C-3PO started, but Leia cut him off. 

“Hush, Threepio, it doesn’t matter,” she says, still eyeing Paz. “Leave us, Threepio.” The droid almost seemed like he would protest, but the look in Leia’s eyes told him not to, so he shuffled out of the foyer and deeper into the house. 

Leia motioned for you to come to her, and you did, wrapping her into a hug. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Leia said into your neck. “But why in the nine Corellian hells would you bring a bounty hunter into my home?”

You step back and look at her. “He’s not a bounty hunter-”

“Well,” Paz says from behind you. “Not right now, anyway. I only do it out of necessity for my people, ma’am.” You’re slightly taken aback, but take care not to show Leia. Not yet, anyway. It hit you that you’d never really inquired more about the work that had brought your Paz to Dantooine.

Leia looks torn. “You know what one of those Mandalorians did to Han. To me, to Luke.”

“Boba Fett?” Paz asks. He’d heard of the princess killing Jabba the Hutt. He’d known it was Fett’s work. Hell, there wasn’t anyone in the Outer Rim that didn’t know.

“You knew him?” Leia is growing hostile again and you aren’t sure what to do.

Paz shakes his head. “Fett had never even been to Mandalore. I can assure you my people are not like him.” Paz knew that was a bit of a lie, but he hated to screw up this reunion for you. “I’ll give you my weapons while I’m here, if that’s what you want.”

“No,” Leia says, her guard dropping. “I know you’re not a threat. Not to us anyway.” And then she looks at you, then back at Paz. “C’mon, I’ll show you to your room and you can put your stuff away.” 

You follow her through the house, and you aren’t sure how to feel. It feels like Alderaan, the decor, the climate, even the  _ smell  _ somehow, and it’s welcoming for a moment until you remember that this isn’t Alderaan, and nothing will ever be Alderaan, no matter how well curated. But you trained your eyes on Leia, her hair wrapped in braids upon her head, a comfortable white sundress fluttering about her as she walked. 

“Here you are,” she says, leading you into a brilliant room, furniture white, though some pieces tinted with blue. The bedspread is blue, the curtains are blue. All pale and deep shades, the room is calming. “Blue’s still your favorite right? Figured this would be right up your alley.”

“Yeah, blue’s still my favorite,” you smile. She’d remembered. 

“I figured as much. Considering you chose a mountain of blue to be your boyfriend,” she quips, and you roll your eyes. Paz felt his face get hot under the helmet again.  _ Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend,  _ he repeated in his head. “Oh, will you be needing a room, too?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t think so,” Paz tells her. “Unless kebiin’ika would like me too.”

You shook your head. “He’s with me,” you say as you toss your backpack onto the bed. “Paz, I’d bet you’d like some time without your helmet. Maybe Leia and I can go somewhere else to catch up?” Paz got the hint like you knew he would, and he nodded. 

“Great,” Leia smiled, taking your hand and pulling you out of the room. “Through here,” she says, walking through what you assumed was the master bedroom into a study. 

The study was cozy, full of actual paper books, and warm colored furniture as opposed to the stark white of the rest of the house. Han’s doing, you assumed. “Your home is gorgeous, Leia,” you tell her as you sit in one of the large chairs. 

Leia drapes herself on one of the couches and her dress settles around her stomach, where her hands clasp atop it. She sees you staring at her belly and smiles. “I’m pregnant,” she says. 

“Congratulations!” You exclaim, and she thanks you. “I swear that wasn’t there when I commed you a few days ago, though.”

She giggles. “My clothes are good at deception.”

“Taking notes from Amidala, I see,” you joke, and she laughs. 

“I did actually ask for Rabé’s help. She was my Amidala’s wardrobe mistress,” Leia says. “But enough about me for now. Since when do you date Mandalorian bounty hunters? And why does he call you kebiin’ika? You don’t have a bounty on you-”

You laugh, cutting her off. “It’s a nickname, Leia, I promise I don’t have a bounty on my head. And, well, it’s a long story,” you say. 

You’re not sure how long you sat there, telling Leia of your time on Dantooine, all the way up until the day that Paz came into town, and when you’d landed on Yavin, and when he’d given you the blade. 

“You’re kidding! He gave you a vibroblade? Where is it?” 

You pat your hip, and unsheath the blade. You move to sit next to Leia on the sofa, holding it out for her to see. “These markings on this part of the blade are his house markings,” you say, “And these are just Mandalorian, I think.”

“So, is it like an engagement ring?”

You shook your head. “No, no, I don’t think so. But from what I gather...Mandalorian courtships usually mean marriage.”

“You’re ready for that? You’ve known him, what? A week?”

You sighed. “No, I’m not ready. But I think I could be. Someday.”

“I hope so,” she says. “He makes you happy. A lot happier than the last time I saw you.”

_ “Leia...I just, I don’t think I can be involved anymore,” you say, the winds of the Naboo lake country gently whipping through your hair. “Now that we’re not fighting all the time, I’m thinking a lot more. About Alderaan, about everyone we’ve lost.” _

_ Her hand was soft on your back. “I know it’s hard,” she said. “But if you take this position in the New Republic you can help so many people. And you can build a house that feels like home. Like Alderaan, just like Sabé made her home like Naboo.” _

_ “I can’t Leia. I can’t make a fake Alderaan and pretend it’s ok. I won’t,” you say. “I have dreams of Alderaan that break me. Dreams of Yavin that break me. Dreams of kriffing Endor that break me. You’re asking me to break myself again for a kriffing committee.”  _

_ Leia’s cheek landed on your shoulder. The tears fell from your face now, and by the feeling of her cheek, she was crying, too. “No,” she whispers. “You can’t break. I need you, a lot of people do.” _

_ “They’re going to have to learn to live without me for a while, I think.” _

_ “But, whenever you’re ready, you’ll come find me, right?” _

_ “It’s going to be a long time, Leia.” _

_ “But you’ll still come find me. I don’t care if it’s four weeks or forty years, you could show up at my doorstep and I’ll hug you like I always have.” _

“Yeah,” you said. “I am a lot happier. I worked through some things. Some things can’t be worked through, though.”

“Alderaan,” she murmurs, leaning into you. “I know. That’s why I love this room so much. It’s so Han, so Corellian, and so not Alderaan.”

“Didn’t take this as a smuggler’s style,” you joke. 

She laughs a little, too. “He doesn’t have a style. I think this is Lando’s doing, Han just put his name on it.”

The room did seem to have Lando’s taste written all over it, though you could guess Lando would rather not have Corellian furniture in his house. Your eyes drifted back to Leia, her hand absent-mindedly stroking her stomach. “When’s the little one due?”

“Four months,” she said. “It’s a boy.”

“A boy with a name?”

“I’m thinking ‘Ben’,” she says. “After Ben Kenobi. Han was thinking ‘Bail’, but I don’t know. I like ‘Ben’.” 

You smiled. “That’s a nice name,” you say. “Besides, a Skywalker needs a Jedi name.”

“Right,” she agrees.

She sits up to face you now. “Will you train him?”

“No,” she says. “I’ll let Luke do that, when he’s ready. And when little Ben is ready. It was never my destiny to become a true Jedi. That was always Luke.”

You smile at her. “You know Mandalorian armor is invincible against a lightsaber?”

“Beskar,” she says. “Yes. It’s very strong. I saw a staff made of beskar once, back on Alderaan when I was little. In a museum, I think.” 

“That’s what Mando wears,” you catch yourself before you say his name, replacing it with the one-size-fits-all nickname. 

She laughs. “Mando isn’t his name right? That’d be awfully unoriginal.”

“No,” you reply. “But Mandalorian religion, it’s...it’s interesting territory. I know his name, though.”

“What’s he look like?” She asks with girlish intrigue, the gossipy voice usually reserved for teenagers poking through.

“I don’t know. And even if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”

Her brow furrows. “You’ve basically agreed to marry him and you don’t know what he looks like?” 

“Ok, first, I agreed to  _ court  _ him.”

“Same difference,” Leia interjects.

You roll your eyes playfully. “And, second, it’s against his creed to remove his helmet unless we’re married.” 

“Oh, maker, I can’t believe you’re going to marry someone for a  _ kiss _ , not even dic-”

“Leia!” You cut her off. “Your son can hear you, you know. Through the Force.”

She lightly hits your arm. “Not how the Force works, dear. And you know I’m right.”

“You aren’t right,  _ your highness,” _ the nickname annoys her to no end, and that’s exactly why you employed it. “He’s sweet to me, Leia. He even taught me how to fight with this thing yesterday.” You pat the vibroblade on your hip.

“Mandalorians must be patient. I remember when you tried to learn to shoot a blaster,” she smiled with nostalgia at the ‘lessons’ from Yavin IV. The marksmen gave up quickly on teaching the mechanics how to fight.

“Ok, I wasn’t  _ that  _ bad,” you tell her. “And my Mando says I’m doing very well with the knife, thank you very much.”

“Oh you’re in love,” Leia said. “I can see it in your eyes. Kriff, before long you might look like me!” She gestures to her pregnant belly. “Do the Mando babies pop out with the helmet on? That might be an issue.”

You let out an embarrassingly loud laugh at the thought. “Maker, Leia, you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“Seriously, though,” she says, putting a hand on your knee. “I’m glad you’ve found him. I think he makes you glow.”

It was well past lunch time when the two of you ventured out of the study again. You’d barely scratched the surface with Leia, but the morning’s talking had already made you tired. “Threepio, we’re hungry,” Leia said as she led you into the kitchen. “Ah, Threepio, you sure you aren’t a mind reader?” The table was set for three, some kind of elegant sandwich and soup combo awaited you. 

“Do we invite Mando? Since he can’t really eat with us?”

You nodded. “I’ll go get him, if that’s ok? Don't want him to get lonely or something.” You walked back out of the kitchen, picturing Paz sitting on the edge of the bed still as a statue. 

You knocked on the door. “Paz? It’s me. Can I come in?” It was a moment before he answered, and then you let yourself through the door. He was lounging on the floor against the bed, your datapad in hand. Not at all what you pictured. 

“Hope you don’t mind,” he says, holding up the datapad. “Wanted to catch up on that show. I’ve been a little confused.” 

You giggled a little at the thought of a big bad Mandalorian itching to watch a holodrama. “It’s alright, love. Would you want to come sit with Leia and I while we eat? I think she’d like to get to know you as much as she can.”

Paz wanted to say no. He wasn’t a social man, especially not after the tension between him and Leia from earlier, but he knew it meant something to you. So, he climbed up off the floor and followed you into the kitchen. 

“Master Mandalorian,” C-3PO greeted as Paz walked into the dining area. “Uh, su cuy’gar. Olarom at yaim Organa-Solo.”

“I can speak Basic, droid,” Paz says as he sits down. 

“What’d he say?” You and Leia asked in unison. 

“He said ‘welcome to the Organa-Solo home’ in Mando’a,” Paz translates.

Leia turns to the droid. “Where the kriff did you learn Mando’a?”

“I am fluent in over-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leia said, and waved him off. “I don't know how I forget that.”

You took a bite of the soup, not as good as the Mandalorian dish Paz had made, but it was delicious nonetheless. 

“Mando,” Leia says between bites. “I assume you’re from Mandalore. Do you still live there?”

Paz shakes his head. “No, ma’am.” 

Leia looks at you, and then you look at Paz, silently trying to let him know that it’s ok to open up to Leia. It was ok for you, just not for him. Not yet, anyway. 

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Used to.”

“Not much of a talker,” Leia murmurs to you. “You met my friend on a job?”

He nods. “More or less. I was coming home from one. Had to stop for supplies.”

“You have a family in your Tribe?”

Paz nods. “The Tribe is my family. All of them. We care for eachother.”

The lunch went on like this, and it was a bit tiring. Leia would ask a question, she would get an answer that did not satisfy, and then ask another. You wished Paz would open up, but you understood. Maybe, with time, he would, and Leia would approve of him. You didn’t  _ need  _ Leia’s approval, but you wanted it. You wanted her to like him, she was very important to you, just as he was. 

Once the bowls of soup were scraped clean and sandwiches were gone from two of the three plates, C-3PO informed Leia that she was needed at the Senate building. 

“I’ll be back soon,” she said as she tied an overdress around her. “Help yourselves to anything, alright?” She kissed you on the cheek and went out the door. 

“I’m sorry I’m not good company,” Paz says as soon as Leia leaves. “It’s not in my nature.”

You shake your head. “Nonsense. She understands, even though it may not seem like it.” 

“I am trying,” he insists. “I just can’t answer those questions.”

You take his gloved hand into yours. “I know,” you say, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “I’ll explain more about Mandalorians to her when she gets back. And who knows? Maybe someday you’ll be an open book with her.”

He laughs. “Yeah, maybe,” he says, voice dripping with uncertainty. “Someday.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm also on tumblr as clanoffetts!


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